Blue Skies, Fresh Air, Freedom, and Darkspawn
by Amhran Comhrac
Summary: Before Maggie Amell became the Warden Commander she was just a big-mouthed mage happy for any chance to leave the Circle. Being a Grey Warden isn't easy, but it's certainly better than the tower! Set in the Never Boring/Apostates of Amaranthine universe
1. Oooh, mystery booze, charming

_A/N: So I started writing about one particular Warden ages ago in the story Never Boring. I wanted to do something in the Awakenings timeline and liked the idea of a well meaning but completely socially inept mage who has only just learned that how people behave in the tower doesn't translate well to life outside it and was trying her best to fit in with normal people as much as she could. It was mostly a personal practice exercise in first person perspective and dialogue for my creative writing class. But... several months and almost half a million words later I realized that I really wanted to go back to the blight and see how she would have handled that._

_This is set before my story Never Boring which is, itself, set before my other current ongoing story, Apostates of Amaranthine. Since this is a prequil you don't need to have read either of those to follow what's going on, but some of the references may be missed._

_And, given the stance my other stories present on the Circle you can expect the first couple chapters to be fairly... dark. I swear, it won't all be like that. But this one may be potentially triggering, so, fair warning._

_A/N update... I've changed the listing to Amell/Zevran. It's really an ensemble piece, and more Maggie's story than anyone else's, but since everyone seems to use the characters listed to determine who the Warden in question is romantically involved with... there you go. If you're just starting now... well, he'll show up in the usual timeframe. :)  
_

_As always, Bioware owns the world. Maggie and I just like to visit._

* * *

We were drunk again, tucked away in one of the many forgotten storerooms of the tower. Shadows danced on the walls as our hands moved, animating the discussion. "Keep your voice down!" Jowan admonished me. "Those bastards can hear you if you blink wrong."

"You're always so paranoid," I laughed. "There's no rule against drinking. They serve ale and wine at dinner!"

He rolled his eyes. "I _know _that. But there are rules against stealing brandy from someone's desk and breaking into the storeroom."

I made a face but dropped my voice to a whisper like his was. He was right, after all. Even though there were also rules about keeping brandy in your desk if you were an enchanter, so it wasn't all bad. "So when do I get to meet this girl?" I asked. "I never see you anymore, you're always off with her. We could all hang out together! She could be here now! And I could have brought… um…. blonde guy?" The name was right on the tip of my tongue, I just couldn't find it through the brandy haze in my mind.

He rolled his eyes. "Patrick, Maggie. Your flame of the moment is named _Patrick_. Maker's breath, you're awful." He glanced at me. "Didn't you drop him already anyways?"

"Oh!" I gasped. "I did! He got all… strange." I remembered now. He had been complaining about sneaking around to see each other. I didn't entirely understand why, we _all_ had to sneak around. But he was demanding I tell him how I felt about him, and if we were 'serious.' My answer of 'what are you talking about?' didn't seem to be correct. What did he think, though? Would we settle down and raise a family? Hardly possible, all things considered. "Actually, I might have something new. Well, new-old."

"You're horrid," he said, laughing. "Wait, new-_old?_ Not…"

"Maybe," I shrugged. "We were talking in the library. I don't even remember why we stopped talking to begin with."

"Because you decided you hated his haircut," Jowan provided, "and when he wouldn't change it you cut it yourself while he was sleeping."

I started to laugh. "I remember now. Wow, he was _so mad_. It really looked much better after, though. He's even kept it that way!"

"You started screaming and shooting lightning at each other in the dining hall over breakfast!" Jowan said. "A templar was called to smite you! I don't know why you two don't just stop speaking completely. This annual reconciliation seems unhealthy."

"It'll be different now," I said. Jowan rolled his eyes. "What! It will. We _talked _about it."

"Nothing," Jowan said. "No. Comment. Anyways, you can meet her soon," he said, raking a hand through his hair. "It's… complicated."

I snorted. "Complicated? What, is she already harrowed?" Although relationships in general were discouraged, relationships between mages and apprentices were _really_ discouraged. Which made my current endeavor a bit problematic, but really, we had known each other since well before his Harrowing. Actually, we'd known each other since well before either of us could tie our own boots. Just like everyone else I knew.

"No…" he made a face. "Soon, all right? I… I don't want to talk about it."

"Maker's breath," I muttered. "Fine. Sorry." I didn't see why he was acting so cagey about the whole thing.

Jowan sighed. "Maybe this weekend, all right?" he finally said. "She's… worried to meet you."

"What?" I snorted, quickly clapping a hand over my mouth to muffle the sound. "She doesn't believe _that_ rumor, does she?" For years people had been saying Jowan and I were deeply in love. No one who was actually friends with us believed it, of course, but we spent enough time together that there had always been talk.

"She… suspects," he admitted. I made a face. "I know, I know. I told her 'look, once you meet her you'll understand, she's barely even a girl to me,' but you know how people talk."

"Barely even a girl? What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded, putting my hands on my hips.

"It means I know you well enough that your so-called… charms don't work on me. And you're insane. There's always that."

"'m not," I said.

"You want to _join the army_," he said. "That's… insane."

I shrugged. "What else would I do? I'm only good at magic that makes things die and I want out. No one would want me as their healer."

"That's _very_ true," he said. "Oh, I've got the next test answers for you. Remind me when we're back at the dorm, I hid them under my mattress."

"Awesome," I said. "Stupid healing. I'd already be harrowed if it wasn't for that class."

"Or tranquil," he snickered. Jowan made his face a blank mask. "_Welcome to the Circle's stockroom of magical items. My name is Margaret. What can I do for you today," _he intoned in a flat voice, imitating the emotionless keepers of the storerooms.

"Oh, creepy," I said, smacking him. "Very creepy. They won't tranquil me, I'm way too awesome."

"And so modest," he said. "That ego might get you tranquil'd, watch yourself."

"It's not _ego_," I protested. "I could _teach_ the advanced primal classes by now. But, you know, couldn't do a thing if someone managed to set themselves on fire. Everyone knows that."

"You couldn't teach a cat to mouse," he said, laughing.

"Like you could," I countered. "You'd be a horrid teacher. _I don't know, just… heal it_," I said, in imitation of the last time he tried to help me with my Creation spells_. " Come on, what's wrong with you? What do you mean 'how'? You cast the spell, that's how!_"

We both dissolved in laughter, leaning shoulder to shoulder. It was careless of us, we couldn't hear the footsteps or door opening.

"Ugh," I groaned a moment later, laying on the floor. Jowan was curled up near me. "Why….?" I looked up at the templar, face hidden behind his helm, still glowing from the smite he'd cast on us. "We didn't do anything! You didn't have to do that!"

Jowan groaned, calling him a bastard under his breath. The templar stomped over and kicked him in the side. "Hey!" I yelled, crawling over to them. I managed to pull myself on top of Jowan, shielding him from another kick. Sadly, this wasn't the first time our evening was ruined by the arrival of one of the Chantry's so called holy knights. Usually they just dragged us back to our rooms, lecturing all the while. Being hit by a smite and kicked was… not typical. "You… you're horrible! Don't hurt him, you ass!"

He reached down and grabbed me by my hair, pulling me to my feet as I shrieked in pain. "Sick bastard," I spat at him. "What, you get hot beating us up when we can't defend ourselves?" I suppose he did, since I moment later his other hand started ripping my robes. Panicked, I began to shriek and kick at him. I could hear Jowan yelling, too, and saw him attempting to get up. The templar pulled his hand back as if to punch me and I braced myself for the blow. It didn't come, instead I heard several sets of footsteps followed by an angry voice screaming "enough!"

I was dropped to the floor as the grip on my hair released, landing in an undignified heap. Jowan had managed to sit up and pulled me near him, crouched against a wall. "Are you all right?" he asked, checking me for injuries as I held my robes closed.

"I'll be fine," I said. "You? He kicked you so hard!"

"I think a rib is broken," Jowan said. "Well, more than one. Well, all of them on that side." I winced in sympathy. We both looked up, wondering who our rescuer was.

I saw the First Enchanter and the Knight Commander talking to our attacker. Oh, it would have to be _them_. Of course. It could never be someone like Uldred, who hated the templars as much as we did, it had to be Irving, with the sad eyes and the 'I'm very disappointed in both of you' lectures that made me feel about two feet tall. "I think we're in trouble," I whispered.

"You don't say," Jowan deadpanned. He gasped a second later, I followed the direction of his glance to see the templar lying on the ground, helm discarded and the Knight-Commander standing over him looking… not happy. "He hit him!"

"Awesome," I said, watching the man roll on the ground, clutching his nose. Blood was pouring between his fingers. Really, it couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. Particularly since a good amount of my hair was still caught between the joints in his armored glove and I needed one hand to hold my clothing shut so I didn't expose myself. Jowan even chuckled to see it, which made him moan in pain and wince, clutching his side.

That caught the attention of our rescuers, who walked over. "Well?" the Knight-Commander said. "What happened here?" Both of us began talking at once, very quickly, and he sighed, shaking his head. "Irving, they're drunk _again_."

The First Enchanter shook his head, kneeling near us. I felt my mind clear as his spell worked. "Jowan needs healing," I said as soon as I could think straight. "That bastard kicked him. Hard!"

"What happened here?" Greagoir repeated.

"After he's healed," I said.

"Maggie, it's fine," Jowan said, wincing again as he tried to stand up. His face was chalky looking, so I knew he was lying to make me keep quiet.

"No it's not," I said. "He kicked you! You can't even stand up." I stood, crossing my arms and immediately uncrossing them as I remembered I had to hold my clothes shut. "Not a word until he's healed."

"Margaret…" the Knight Commander began, sounding annoyed.

"Greagoir, what's the harm in healing the boy?" Irving said, cutting him off. A moment later Jowan climbed to his feet, color returning to his face. The First Enchanter looked at me next, casting another spell. He must have seen the confusion on my face since Irving touched a hand to the top of my head, removing it quickly and displaying red fingertips to me.

"Andraste's sagging _tits_," I groaned, putting my free hand to my head. "I'm going to have a _bald spot!_"

"Language!" the Knight-Commander snapped. "Hair grows back. Now talk."

Jowan and I exchanged a quick glance. We should get off easy since this was clearly just as bad for the templar. Probably a whole lot worse once my ripped robes were considered. Might as well be honest. "Fine," I said. "We stole a bottle of brandy and broke in here to drink it. That's it." I sighed. "I'm sorry. We both are. Sorry, I mean. It was wrong. Of us. Very wrong." I tried to look apologetic. It didn't work, judging by how Greagoir rolled his eyes.

"Where does he come into this story?" he asked, gesturing to the man who was now sitting up, glaring at us both.

"He's a sodding lunatic!" I said. "We were just _sitting_ here talking, not casting spells or doing anything else, when he came in. Didn't say a word, just cast a smite. There was no reason! We weren't using magic, he just wanted to make sure we couldn't defend ourselves! Then he kicked Jowan _really _hard, and yanked me by my hair when I complained. He pulled me right off the ground and it hurt, a lot! And now I have a bald spot! He was going to punch me in the face when you came in. I think you can figure out what else was on his mind, too. Freak started ripping my robes right off me. If you hadn't stopped him…" I said with a shudder before stomping over and kicking the man between the legs. He groaned and fell to his side. "How do you like it!" I snarled at him before Greagoir pulled me away. I still couldn't resist adding "_Lunatic_" as I pointed a finger at him. When they didn't respond fast enough I kept talking. "Sick bastard probably gets off on hurting mages. Who knows what was going on in that mind? Look at him, my hair's all stuck in his glove still, my robes are _completely _ruined, too. I sure didn't consent to this, I'll tell you that." I made a face. "And: _Bald. Spot._"

All three of them sighed in unison and I stopped talking. "One of these days we'll remember to make Jowan answer. Perhaps he can reply without so much… drama," Greagoir said.

"It's all true," I muttered. "And _drama_? He was ripping my clothes off! If that doesn't call for some drama I'd _love_ to know what does!"

"Both of you go wait for me in my office," the First Enchanter said. "Do try and avoid getting in more trouble along the way." We shuffled out quickly, heads down. Once we left the room Jowan grabbed my arm, putting a finger to his lips. Understanding instantly I stopped, standing just beyond the doorway to listen.

"—by nightfall," the First Enchanter said.

"Irving, I agree, but that's too fast, I need to make arrangements. I have to decide where to send him."

"Then he can wait in a cell," Irving replied, sounding… really angry, actually. "First the girl last week, now this? I suspected he was responsible then, I have no doubts of it now, he did the same thing to her. Will you wait until he _does_ kill someone?" Girl last week? Jowan met my gaze and gestured for me to be quiet.

"Don't pretend those two were completely innocent," Greagoir responded. "Theft, breaking into a storeroom… and not the first, or tenth, time for either of those things."

"So for that they should be attacked? Margaret deserved to be—"

"No! Of course not," Greagoir said. "Don't be absurd. Fine, I'm not going to argue. The Maker himself couldn't keep Margaret quiet about this anyways, so it's just as well." They were walking towards the door, we both bolted down the hall and up the stairs, not wanting to get caught listening.

"Girl last week?" I whispered, once we were seated in the First Enchanter's empty office.

"I don't know," he said. "An apprentice was hurt pretty bad, younger than us, I don't know her. I didn't get the whole story."

"What _did_ you get?"

He made a face. "If it was him, well… just be glad they got there." I thought about it for a moment before gasping.

I felt sick. "Makers breath, please tell me you're _kidding, _right?"

Jowan shook his head. "That's just what I heard," he said. "I don't know how true it is."

"That's horrible!" I said, shuddering. "That poor girl. The worst part is, he'll just get sent to some Chantry, or to hunt apostates. He won't even get in trouble, not really. Not until he tries to hurt some normal person. Hurting us doesn't count, I guess."

"And I bet we'll be cleaning for weeks. _Again_."

"No you won't," a third voice chimed in from behind us. We both shifted, sitting ramrod-straight in our chairs as the First Enchanter sat behind his desk. "Don't worry, I wasn't eavesdropping any longer than you two did. Are you all right?" We both nodded. "Margaret, are you sure?" he said, looking at me holding my torn clothing together.

"I'm fine," I said. "He didn't have a chance to... do anything. Besides give me a bald spot."

Irving nodded, looking relieved. He shuffled through papers on his desk and sighed, setting them aside. "How many times will the three of us have to sit here like this?" he asked. "Why can't the two of you just follow the rules?" I looked down at my hand, resting in my lap. "What he did _wasn't your fault_, but we can't pretend you had any business being in that storeroom. Or that you owned that bottle of brandy." I nodded glumly, not meeting his eyes. "Nothing to say? Well, all right then." He sighed again and I waited for it. "I'm very disappointed in both of you. You've both bright young people, free time should be spent studying and preparing for the Harrowing, not with petty crime and drinking." And there it was. "Fine," he finally said after we both mumbled an apology. "Go on, I can't see any reason to punish you on top of what you've already been through tonight."

After we thanked him Jowan and I made our way to the dorms. "I can't believe we didn't get in trouble," he said.

"You had broken ribs!" I countered. "And don't forget: bald spot!"

"Let me see," he said, looking down at the top of my head. He shifted several locks of my hair around before nodding. "There. No one will ever see it. Just check a mirror until it grows back. You're lucky you have curly hair. It's always so all over the place that no one will ever realize anything is different." I rolled my eyes at him and we walked back downstairs.

Returning to the dorm Jowan turned to look at the wall while I slipped into a fresh robe. Changed, I tossed my old robes in the nearest fireplace and waved my hand over them, watching until they were ash. That done, we both sat on my bunk, facing each other. "What are you reading now?" he said, pulling the books from the top of my trunk. "_The Valliant Rebels of River Dane_? Well, no surprise there. Rip the pictures of Teyrn Loghain out already to hang up?" I made a face at him and he chuckled, setting it back down. "_Victory at Ayesleigh_? Oh, that seems like a nice light read. You're actually enjoying this?"

"Yeah, it's really fascinating. All about the Grey Wardens and the fourth blight. Good stuff."

"Your version of fascinating doesn't quite mesh with mine," he said. "Or anyone else's."

"You just don't know a good read," I said. "They rode _griffons_ into battle. Can you even imagine how exciting that must have been? Griffons are _awesome_."

"Terrifying," Jowan said. "The correct word is _terrifying_, not _exciting_." He shook his head and looked around the room, dropping his voice and leaning towards me. "Is it true about Colleen?" For as long as I could remember, Colleen had the bunk above mine. Last night the First Enchanter and a group of templars woke her up, taking her off for the Harrowing.

I sighed. "They got her last night, she never came back."

"You sure she didn't move to the mage quarters?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No, when they do a tranquil comes and packs up their stuff. The templars came, they just tossed everything away."

He looked disgusted. "Tossed away? They didn't think her friends might want a keepsake?"

"Why would they?" I muttered. "We're barely people to them anyways." I sighed.

"Poor Colleen."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Why do you think I wanted to get drunk so badly? She's had the bunk above mine since I got here. I'll really miss her. She was nice."

"She was," he agreed. Jowan turned around and rooted through the trunk at the foot of my bed, turning back once he'd found my hidden flask. "To Colleen," he said, raising it and taking a swig.

"To Colleen," I said, once he passed it to me. I winced after taking a drink, my throat burning.

"Maker's breath, what is that?"

"No idea," I admitted. "I think it's blue, though. Brennan got it for me."

"Oooh, mystery booze, charming." He rolled his eyes at me. "From Brennan no less. I can't believe you're really going through that again. Last time you told me I should beat you senseless if you considered ever giving him the time of day."

I shrugged. "I'm sure I didn't mean that," I said. "And maybe," I said. "We've been talking again." Although I'd never actually been with someone long enough to really call it a relationship, Brennan and I seemed to both decide we couldn't get enough of each other about once a year. That lasted a couple weeks until we both got bored or annoyed with each other, followed by another year of barely speaking, only to start over again.

"Drinking again?" a voice called. I looked over to see our friend Bridget watching us from the door. Since she had been through the Harrowing we didn't see her quite so often. "Didn't you two just get busted an hour ago?"

"Different this time," I said. "Come here, have a drink to Colleen's memory."

She glanced at the bunk above mine, seeing it stripped to a bare mattress. "Did she…"

"Harrowing," I said. "Last night."

"Oh Maker," she said, paling as she sat between us. I passed her the flask and she gratefully accepted a drink.

"You can't tell us anything?" Jowan said. "Not even a hint? If we know something maybe we'll have a better chance of not ending up like…"

"You _know_ I can't," she protested.

"We're your friends!" I said. "We won't tell anyone else, I swear." She shook her head. It wasn't the first time we had this conversation, after all. I accepted the flask back and capped it, slipping it under my pillow. "So, what's going on?" I asked her after a moment. "You don't come down to see us kids very often, it has to be good."

"I'm sorry," she said. "They have me teaching some of the really young kids now. I'm just so busy all the time. I really should make more time for my friends."

I shrugged. "I understand."

"Is it true a templar attacked both of you?" she asked, looking worried.

"You heard _already_?" Jowan asked. "Yeah. We were in the storeroom, he busted in, launched a smite and kicked me. He started ripping Maggie's robes off, though, so all things considered we're pretty lucky Irving and Greagoir showed up when they did."

"I have a bald spot now," I added. "He pulled out a chunk of my hair. It sucks."

Jowan rolled his eyes. "I'm sort of disturbed that bothers you more than him trying to rip your robes off."

"No, I'm just not _thinking_ about that," I said. "Or I'll start vomiting. Or crying. Maybe both."

Jowan squeezed my knee sympathetically. "He was about to punch her right in the face, glove on and everything, when the First Enchanter and Knight Commander got there." Bridget's face went even paler. "You should have heard Maggie, she wouldn't even talk to them until they healed me, and then started shrieking that he was a maniac. She _kicked_ him. It was fantastic."

"Well, he is," Bridget said. "You heard about the girl last week, right?"

"I did, but just bits and pieces," Jowan said. "What actually happened?"

She glanced around and dropped her voice to a whisper. "Someone forced himself on her. Beat her up really bad, too. She was young, maybe four or five and ten. No one knew who did it at the time, but I guess they figure it was him since he did the same thing. Only without anyone stopping him in time."

"That young?" I gasped. "Disgusting. What kind of adult goes after children? They should hang him."

"Well, I don't know what they're doing to him, but everyone's talking now. They were pulling him downstairs, to the cells, and a couple other templars came up to him. They beat the boots off him, right there in front of everyone in the hall!"

"Good," I said. "Nice to know _some_ of them have a shred of decency."

"By the time Greagoir got there to break it up… well, they say he might not make it because all of the healers have refused to do anything since they'll just send him off to some Chantry instead of punishing him. They said they won't unless he promises it's just so they can march him to the gallows for what he did to that girl. Even Wynne won't do it and you know how she's always defending the templars." She shook her head. "She's still not right. I mean, they healed the injuries, but I guess she won't talk, just cries in the infirmary. Not like she could say who it was, though. He left the lousy helmet on the whole time, I guess."

"I hope they don't help him," I said. "Let him suffer."

We talked for a little while longer before Bridget and Jowan both went off to their respective beds. Once they had left I went over to one of the small desks across the room. I stared at the blank vellum for what felt like ages before I began to write.

_Jowan-_

_If you're reading this I suppose I've failed my Harrowing. Or, you know, the other thing (in which case please don't let the mindless husk wearing my face trick you, I'm already dead, they're just milking a few more years of usefulness out of my corpse.) So much for all my talk of being awesome, huh?_

_Do you remember when we met? It was the day I arrived. The templars dropped me by the doors as soon as they filled my phylactery and left me howling and clawing at them. You came over and gave me a hug, and then led me by the hand to the kitchen where they gave us each a cookie and glass of milk. For years I had prayed to the Maker for a brother, at that moment I decided He must have answered me. Oh, I'm sure you were just thrilled that the First Enchanter told you to go talk to the new kid once to shut her up and she wouldn't leave you alone after, but there you have it. I decided you were my new Maker-sent brother and I wasn't about to let you get away from me. I don't think my mind changed about that since then. _

_I just wanted you to know how much your friendship has meant to me over the years. Since that day you've often been the only reason I've found to smile. You're my dearest friend and, more than that, the only person I've ever known who I would proudly call my family._

_Please don't be sad. We both know this is the only way they would have ever let me out of here, and now I'm free. They say we return to the Maker's side. Maybe that's true, who am I to say? If it is, I'm sure it's better than the tower. You, though, you have a chance. You've never given yourself enough credit. You could be a healer, get out, live with some fancy noble. You could make a real life. So, this is the last thing I'll ever pester you to do: live, and be happy._

_All my love,  
Maggie_

I blotted the letter and folded it, carefully writing his name on the outside. Hopefully someone would make sure it got to him if I ended up like Colleen. _And Anne, and Thomas, and Helena, and Geoffrey, and Bess, and, and, and, and… _my mind supplied, rattling off the names of the people we'd known who never returned from that late-night call. After I put the letter in my trunk I crawled into bed and cried.

* * *

_I swear every chapter won't be this depressing. Really._


	2. Sometimes a lot of things need to die

The next few weeks were comparatively quiet, despite people asking occasional questions about what happened. Jowan and I did our best to stay out of trouble. Despite his promises to ask his girlfriend about meeting me nothing happened. It was just as well, First Enchanter Irving had been on my case about 'getting some serious work done.' I think I'd learned more spells in the last two months than I had in the last two years.

I had been looking out the window in my advanced Entropy class, watching a bird. It was sunny out. I wondered if the water was warm. There was a boat on the water, not the little boat that brought children here, a big one. I could see people standing on it, wearing strange clothes and walking around. The men had what looked like tubes of fabric over each leg. I'd seen pictures before. _Pants_. They looked uncomfortable, to have something wrapped around your legs like that. The man I was watching picked a small child up, I think it was a girl, she was wearing robes (_dress_, I mentally corrected myself a moment later) and held her in the air so she could look over the railing.

"Margaret, are you there?" the instructor called.

"Huh?" I answered.

"That's what I thought," he replied. "Now you'll never know the first entropic spell combination. I hope whatever is outside was worth it."

I sighed and turned to him. "Vulnerability hex combined with drain life. If the target is a spellcaster it can also be combined with mana drain from the Spirit family. Anything else?"

He made a face at me. "Since we're so smart today what other spell combinations are there?"

"Death hex and death cloud combine to create entropic death which will kill most targets almost instantly, sleep and horror to create nightmare which will paralyze almost any target with terror." Really, did he expect I wouldn't know? He looked like there was another comment ready but chimes rang through the halls and we all stood up, shuffling from the room.

"Showoff," a girl from my dorm room muttered as we left.

"Should I lie, then?" I replied. "Pretend to be stupid so you don't feel bad?" I made a face and pushed past her, muttering _idiot_ under my breath.

Primal came next. There were only three people in this class, all of us old enough to hope our Harrowing would come any day now. There was no regular professor, just a rotating group of senior enchanters. Irving was running class today. "Who can give a practical application for an inferno spell?" he asked. Since there were no windows in this room I raised my hand. "Margaret?"

"Killing a lot of things at once," I said. "With fire." The girl sitting next to me giggled, and the templar behind us coughed quickly, attempting to hide his laughter. Really, the answer was obvious.

"How is that _practical_?" he said, looking at me.

I shrugged. "What? Sometimes a lot of things need to die. Quickly. A spell is faster than sending in a battalion of foot soldiers or cavalry and less people have the chance to be hurt."

"Other than the people you set on fire," the boy across from me said.

"Well, _obviously,_" I replied. "But if your goal is to kill them that wouldn't really matter, would it?"

"So you want to go around setting people on _fire_?"

"Don't be an ass," I snapped. "I mean in a war, not unleashing it on some town or anything. He asked for a use for the spell, I gave one. Your own damn fault if you're too slow to come up with anything."

"Can anyone provide a use… other than in battle?" Irving asked.

He rolled his eyes and made a face at me before turning to smile at Irving. "It could be used to clear land, for planting."

"Yes!" Irving said, pleased. I raised my hand and he sighed. "Yes, Margaret."

"Can you tell us the last time a mage was let out of the tower so they could _clear land_ for a farmer?" I asked.

"That is not the point," he replied.

"Why not?" I said, not caring how insubordinate I sounded. "Why _bother_ memorizing all these uses for spells that no one has needed for centuries? We wouldn't be _allowed_ to do any of them anyways, even if people wanted us to. So, what, we memorize this just so we can stay here and teach it to someone else in a few years who won't ever do anything with it, either?"

"Basically," the girl next to me said. We shared a grin.

"Margaret, we've been over this," Irving said. "Unless you have something _new_ to add to the discussion please be quiet so everyone can learn." I folded my arms and slumped in my chair, pouting and ignoring him for the rest of the period. After class Irving passed me a list of spells he wanted me to have mastered by the following week. I nodded, going straight to the practice rooms for primal spells. The lower library was fine for the basic spells, but for something like a blizzard they had cavernous rooms on an upper floor, below the harrowing chamber, bare of anything but a templar and a door. "Hope that armor's warm," I said to the templar on duty. He only grunted in reply. A lot of them didn't like speaking to us. I suppose we were so cursed it might rub off on them if they were nice to us. Or they liked hiring jerks. That seemed about as likely.

I secretly hoped Irving was trying to get me ready to take the harrowing, but didn't want to say anything. I wasn't entirely sure I'd _survive_ for one thing, at least half my friends hadn't, maybe more, and I knew Jowan would start getting all nervous about when his would be if I mentioned it. He never let me forget he got to the tower a year before I did. I'd barely even seen Jowan since that night in the storeroom, whenever I asked what he was doing he always had plans with his secret girlfriend or said he had to study.

I'd finally convinced him to join me for dinner, sick of seeing him grab a plate and take it away with him. "Any plans tonight?" he asked me over bowls of stew.

"Yeah," I said after I swallowed the bite I'd just taken. "With Davy." Staying out of trouble or no, I had no intention of becoming some Chantry sister.

"That's a new one," he said, snickering. "Don't think I know him."

I glanced around the dining hall until I spotted him a few tables away. He had already been looking at me. I smiled and offered a little wave, he returned both gestures. "Three tables over, elf with long red hair," I said to Jowan. He waited a moment before dropping something, glancing over as he picked up his napkin.

"A mage?" Jowan said, surprised.

I shrugged. "He's the same age as us."

"So Brennan…?" he asked, grinning.

"A _jerk_. Next time I decide to give him another chance just kick me in the head a few times, would you? It would be faster and less annoying."

Jowan only shook his head and chuckled. I made a face at him. I was serious! Every time we ended up back together it ended in a huge screaming match, I don't know why I always seemed to forget.

I looked around the room to see if Bridget was here, I hadn't seen her since she came down to the apprentice dorms ages ago. She wasn't, but I noticed someone else staring at me. "Oh Maker," I muttered, blushing.

"What?"

"Remember the guy who stood me up a couple years ago?"

"The one who keeps escaping? How could I forget? I've never seen you cry over a guy before. It was _scary_."

"He's _staring_ at me." I sighed. "He must still think I'm an idiot."

"Forget him," Jowan said. "He'll be off on another adventure in a week anyways. Someone like that will just get you into trouble. Well, _more_ trouble."

I glanced back over, he noticed me looking and turned his head away quickly. "You're right. What a shame, though. I mean, _damn_. It even looks like he's growing his hair out. It's like he _wants_ to torment me."

"Ugh, I don't need to hear this," Jowan laughed. "You're worse than most of the guys, you know!"

"Would you rather I ask about the mystery girl?" I giggled.

"Look, I'm seeing her tonight, I'll talk to her, all right?" I rolled my eyes. He had been promising that for weeks.

We drifted out of the dining hall and I went back to my room, checking my hair before leaving. Thankfully it had started to grow back where it was ripped out. And, well, my date was an elf, he wouldn't be able to see the top of my head if it came to that. I met Davy in a dark corner of the library. We talked for a while, gossiping about people we knew and laughing at each other's jokes as the room slowly emptied, before looking around to confirm no one could see us and slipping behind a bookshelf.

I managed to avoid the templars on patrol sneaking back to my room. Amelia, another apprentice, was sitting on her bunk reading. I could tell from here it was an enormous leather-bound copy of the complete Chant of Light. Ugh, probably reading the parts of Canticle of Transfigurations about mages and working up a good bit of self-loathing, knowing her. She looked up as I walked in and made a face. I made one right back to her. Maybe if she snuck out past lights out once in a while and didn't spend all her time praying to be made a mundane she wouldn't be such a bitch all the time. I was tempted to tell her that but decided it wouldn't be smart to start a screaming match after sneaking through the tower.

Although I'd hoped and dreaded that my Harrowing would happen soon it didn't seem to be on the horizon. Weeks passed with nothing going on, and Jowan growing even more distant. Between his constant excuses that he needed to study or see this girl, and Bridget's busy new schedule I found I spent most of my free time in the library, buried in a book.

I was trying to reach something on one of the upper shelves, and having no luck at it, when someone walked up behind me. "Which one?" a familiar voice asked.

"The orange one, fifth in," I said. Brennan reached up and grabbed the book, passing it down to me. "Thanks," I said. It was a new book by Brother Genitivi, one of my favorite authors, about the rebellion against Orlais.

"More war stories?" he asked, glancing at the cover and grinning.

"What else would it be?" I replied, wondering what he wanted. We'd gotten into a screaming match outside the dining hall more than a month earlier; usually it took a good deal longer before either of us would speak to the other after one of those.

"You look surprised to see me, Mags. I _do_ live here, you know." He laughed at his own joke and sat down at the nearest table. He seemed to have something more to say so I sat across from him instead of in the chair he indicated at his side. "So that's how it is?" Brennan said, looking amused.

I sighed. "What is it?"

"Come on," he said, "don't be like that. Can't we just chat? Maker knows we've known each other long enough." I eyed him warily, fully expecting the next words out of his mouth to be 'I have this test in primal soon' or something along those lines. Brennan seemed to ignore my suspicious demeanor, though, and continued as if nothing was wrong. "Anyways, I was sitting around today and it occurred to me, I couldn't remember what we were arguing about last."

"You can't _remember_?" I said, shocked. "Oh, I can tell you that. No problem." He gestured for me to go on. "You smacked me on the ass and asked if I really needed to eat a second piece of cake at the Funalis dinner."

He gave me a well-practiced look of shock. "I did not," Brennan protested. "Was I _drunk_? I refuse to believe that I said anything less than complimentary about your ass." He shook his head in disbelief. "No, that's impossible. I've written _poems_ about that ass." He grinned at me. "Well _a _poem. I'm sure you remember."

"How could I forget," I replied drily. "A true literary masterwork. You rhymed it with 'class.'"

"I never said it was a _good_ poem." He gave me a wry smile and I felt a bit of my hostility ebb away. "Really, I wanted to check on you," Brennan went on, a look of genuine concern on his face. "You've been sitting in here alone every night buried in some book about old wars. Did something happen with Jowan?"

I sighed. "I don't know. He's got some new girlfriend, won't introduce me, and he's always either studying or spending time with her. I've barely seen him at all in the last month."

"_Jowan_ has a new girl?" he said, surprised.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I said, making a face at him.

Brennan shrugged. "I don't know… I always figured he had a thing for you." I shook my head, annoyed that he of all people would buy into that rumor. "No, not the whole secretly in love thing. I just figured he might have a bit of a crush on you. I mean, he follows you everywhere and does whatever you say. You're constantly talking him into Maker only knows what sorts of plans."

"You're insane," I said.

"If I am I only have you to blame," he replied quickly. "Seriously, I was worried. You two are never apart for this long. Want me to talk to him?"

"Nah," I said. "I guess she _does_ buy into that rumor, and doesn't even want to meet me because of it. I don't want to make things worse for him. He seems to really like her. For as much as that matters here." He got up and moved around the table, pulling a chair closer to me and sitting down.

"You know, I'll never figure you out, Maggie. Sometimes you're the nicest girl in the world and, well, sometimes you're… not."

"Lies! Slander and lies," I said. "I'm _always_ nice."

He raised his eyebrows at that, turning to face me. "Really? Like when you said… hm… what was it…" he paused, stroking his chin. "Oh yes. You said 'Does Mr. Wiggums know you stole the tail off his latest mouse and glued it to your face?' when I grew a moustache."

I managed to chuckle at that. "Well… you shaved, didn't you? You look much better without it."

Brennan laughed at that. "And we didn't speak for months!" He put an arm across my shoulder, ignoring the templar who loudly cleared his throat. Against my better judgment I leaned into him. "What do you say, care to join me for dinner? I hear they're making your favorite, a traditional grey Ferelden slop. _Delicious!_" I didn't answer right away and he sighed. "Oh, come _on_, it's _me_. Do we really have to go through this every sodding year? I swear, you'll be the death of me. Don't be such an ice queen, you know we'll end up speaking again sooner or later. Why not now?"

"I am _not_ an ice queen," I protested. If my reputation was any indication I was… well, whatever the opposite of an ice queen was.

Brennan chuckled. "I've seen your frost spells. You are the _queen_ of the ice queens, in the most literal sense. Don't forget, I was there when you organized that little sledding party on the stairwell."

"That was almost fifteen years ago, Brennan," I said, laughing. "We were children!"

"True, almost fifteen years ago you were able to completely encase an entire flight of stairs in ice and snow. _Queen of the ice queens_. I still don't understand why you haven't been moved upstairs yet." I winced a little at that. He went through the Harrowing almost a year ago, despite being the same age as me.

I shook my head. "See, now you're just trying to flatter me."

"And how," Brennan replied. "Working yet?"

I chuckled. "Hmmm… almost." He was right, we would end up speaking sooner or later.

"Progress!" he exclaimed, putting his other arm around me and nibbling my neck for a brief moment, causing me to gasp and the templar to clear his throat even louder. "Oh, go soak your head," Brennan called to him. "_We_ don't have stupid vows of celibacy." He turned his attention back to me and I remembered once again why we always ended up forgiving each other. No one could smart mouth templars like he could. "What if I said I wanted to walk into the dining hall with the smartest girl in the tower beside me? Or the prettiest? Oh… or the best kisser. Definitely. Not that they would all know that, although more than a few would I'm sure."

"Your flattery is a bit… off," I laughed.

"Or… we can just grab plates and take them up to my room," he went on. "Everyone else will be downstairs, after all." Hm… now _there_ was an idea. Brennan was a mage, after all. They had normal-sized beds, not the horrid little bunk beds we were stuck with in the apprentice dorm. My thoughts must have been obvious to him since he began laughing. "I see that got your attention." Brennan stood up and grabbed my hands, pulling me to my feet. "No wonder when we get along we get along so _very_ well."

It turned out instead of the three walled cubicle in a shared room, Brennan had a private room for the moment. "No roommate?" I asked later that evening, lounging on his bed. He had bookshelves arranged to block the view of his bed anyways, just in case a templar poked their head in.

"Nope," he said. "They put someone in there and he escaped the next day. Never even got to meet him."

"Lucky bastard," I muttered.

"Who? Me or him?"

I laughed. "Either. Both. I'd love a private room, but I think I'd love to get out of here even more."

"Same here," he said. "But… you knew that already. Although," he said, trailing off as he ran a fingertip up and down my spine.

"Although what?"

He paused for a moment. "Well, you know Senior Enchanter Uldred is the head of the Libertarians here in the tower, right?" I nodded slightly, rolling to my side. "He's been saying that he may have a way to finally free us from the Chantry."

"Really?" I said quickly, sitting up and covering myself with a blanket. "How?"

"Keep your voice down!" Brennan admonished me. "This is all really hush-hush for now. He just left for Ostagar to help the king and Teyrn Loghain against the darkspawn, I think it has something to do with one of them. He's having a meeting of some of the other Libertarians as soon as he gets back."

"Promise you'll tell me what happens?" I said quickly. As an apprentice I couldn't officially join any of the fraternities.

Brennan grinned, his blue eyes sparkling. "I can go one better. I talked him into letting you come."

I blinked in shock. "I thought Uldred hated me," I said. "The last time I saw him he called me a smartmouth." The time before he called me a tramp but repeating that when I was currently without clothing didn't seem appropriate.

"Well… he's not a fan. But he knows you're a strong supporter of our cause, and one of the best mages in the tower, so I guess he's willing to overlook your, you know, constant need to break every rule you can." I elbowed him. Brennan was just as much a troublemaker as me. He was just better at sneaking around without being caught. "Hey, just repeating what he told me. He always says we should stay out of trouble since our stance is so controversial. If we were always causing problems the templars might start to look too closely at us." He shrugged. "So, you know, be good."

I fell back to the pillows and laughed. "Be good? Like, right now? It's past lights out and I'm in a mage's bed, instead of tucked in downstairs in the apprentice dorm. I'm actually managing to break two rules just being here. Maybe more."

He laughed with me. "Well… good for _you_. If you suddenly turned into a Chantry initiate I think everyone would assume something was going on."

"Probably," I agreed. "I should get back downstairs, though, before someone notices I'm missing." I climbed out of bed and retrieved my clothing from the floor.

"Well, there's no need to _rush_," Brennan said, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me back down.

I laughed and sat back on his bed, not complaining as he nibbled at my throat. "With my luck the First Enchanter and a bunch of templars are downstairs looking for me for the Harrowing right now," I said.

"Nah," he said. "The First Enchanter always warns you before. Something like "don't get to sleep too late."

"What?" I said, jumping up again. "Are you kidding? I thought Irving was just making a crack about me always being out after lights-out." I began frantically tossing clothing on.

"Andraste's _tits,_" he muttered. "Are you messing with me?"

"Obviously not!" I said, hopping on one foot as I attempted to pull my boots on.

"Shit," he muttered. "Well, I may be wrong. That's just what everyone says he tells them right before. It could be coincidence."

"Worth risking?" I said, looking at him. Brennan's lack of response made his answer obvious.

"You'll be fine," he said. "Just… don't trust anything. That's all I can say."

"What in the Black City is that supposed to mean?" I demanded.

"Nothing," he said, too quickly. "It's early yet, our lights out isn't for another half hour. You might be able to beat them there." He stood up and grabbed me, kissing me roughly. "You'll be fine," Brennan said, sounding not entirely sure of that. "I'll see you tomorrow." I nodded and slipped out the door. A quick glance up and down the hallway showed one templar, facing the opposite direction. I kept close to the wall, in shadow, and moved as fast as I could without making too much noise on the stone floors. Once in the stairwell I saw the back of the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander's heads as they went downstairs, so I doubled back, running through the halls to another flight of stairs. I nearly collided with a senior enchanter on the way down. He said something about it being after lights out. "I know, I know," I called back over my shoulder. "I'm going!"

Amazingly, I made it back to my bunk without being caught. Climbing in without changing out of my robes I stretched out and grinned, vaguely hoping there wouldn't be any bruises on my neck in the morning. There was no sign of the First Enchanter, or anyone else, so I closed my eyes and relaxed. I had just started to fall asleep when I heard footsteps around my bed. Opening my eyes I saw several templars hovering over me. _Oh no_, I thought, _what did I do now?_

"Apprentice Margaret," the Knight Commander said. "Get up, it is time." Once my vision adjusted to the dark I could see the First Enchanter standing next to him.

Ice in my veins I nodded mutely, stepping out of bed into my boots. The first thing to pop into my mind was that, until this point, I hadn't realized I left my underpants upstairs, most likely lying on Brennan's floor next to his bed. I had others, obviously, but I couldn't very well ask them to all turn around so I could put a pair on. _I can't believe I have to take my Harrowing without underpants,_ I thought, almost laughing out loud. My second thought, though, was that I wouldn't get a chance to say goodbye to Jowan if…

I glanced over and seeing that Alice, the girl in the next bunk, was awake I quickly said "if I don't come back please make sure Jowan gets the letter in my trunk," before they pulled me away.

* * *

_And now we come to the actual beginning of the game... _


	3. The 'don't act insane' plan

Someone was shaking me. _Demon?_ my mind screamed as I bolted upright. Apparently I had shrieked out loud as well as in my dream, since seconds later Jowan pulled me into a tight hug, trying to calm me down. "It's just me," he repeated. "Calm down, you're safe! Maggie, you're safe." I finally realized it was over and leaned against him, taking a deep breath.

He sat down next to me. "Alice gave me your letter this morning; I didn't even know they came for you! I ran over here, they hadn't brought you back yet. I… I just sat here and… but then they carried you in. Maker's breath, I thought you were…" Jowan's eyes were red as he looked at me with relief.

"She was supposed to give you that if I _didn't_ come back," I said. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"I'm just so glad you're all right," he said, hugging me again. "I've been sitting here waiting for you to wake up. What was it like?"

I looked around, it must have been the middle of the day, the room was empty. "Don't tell?"

"Of course not," he said quickly.

"I had to go into the fade and fight a demon," I said.

"Really?" he answered. "_That's_ it?"

"Of course not," I said, dropping my voice even lower. "Another demon, it pretended to be the spirit of a mage trapped there, one who failed. It helped me fight the first one, and then tried to trick me into letting it out. You know, into letting it possess me."

He nodded. "That… makes sense. They want to see if you can resist a demon and stop yourself from becoming an abomination."

"It was awful," I said. He put an arm around me, squeezing my shoulder. I'd been into the fade before, of course. Not just for sleep, but in class. But that was the first time I had to face a demon alone. Although it was only a rage demon, one of the weakest, it was still terrifying. That a sloth demon and pride demon were also wandering around made my stomach clench. I didn't think I could handle _either _of those by myself if I had to. Of course, it was all made worse since the whole time part of me was worried my robes went up when I dropped to the ground and I inadvertently flashed the highest ranked templar and mage in Ferelden because I forgot my underwear.

"Well, it's over now and you get to move to the nice mage's quarters upstairs. I don't know _when_ they'll call me for mine."

"Any day now," I said, sure it was true.

He snorted. "I've been here longer than you. I'm starting to wonder if they… don't want to test me."

I looked up at him. "What? You're just paranoid."

"No, I'm afraid of what will happen," he said.

"What do you mean?" I said, feeling nervous.

"If you don't get called… it probably means tranquility," Jowan said, fear in his voice.

"Oh Maker," I gasped. "Don't think like that, don't even _say_ that. They're not going to do that to you."

"No? When it was both of us I could believe that. You're such a strong mage, they'd never do that to you. They just kept you back because you wouldn't stay out of trouble. And not even that far back, not really. You're two years younger than I am after all. Now, it's just me, almost everyone else we grew up with has already moved on."

I'd been worried for some time; it didn't take a genius to realize the two of us had been here longer than most of the other apprentices. I had been worried for some time, but didn't want to add to his fears, though. "It'll be soon," I said again. "Maybe even tonight."

Jowan shrugged, clearly not believing me. "Anyways, I shouldn't bug you with this now. I was supposed to tell you Irving wants to see you."

"Did he say why?"

"Nope. Maybe something about the Harrowing, although it could be to yell at you for your late night adventure with Brennan," he said, snickering. "Rumor has it you nearly plowed over one of the Senior Enchanters running to get back here."

"Damn," I muttered, but then I grinned and shrugged. "Oh well, it was worth it. I mean, what if I had died? At least I had some fun in my last hours."

"Thank you," Jowan said dryly. "So much. Really needed to know that. Really." He stood up and yanked me to my feet. "Better not keep Irving waiting." I turned to leave. "Wait," Jowan called. He raised a hand and I felt warmth on my neck. "Your good friend Brennan is also a biter, apparently." He rolled his eyes and went back to his own dorm, my letter still clutched in his hand.

I pulled my boots on, wondering who had taken them off me after my harrowing. At least I was still in my robes, though. The thought of some templar undressing me and putting me into a nightdress made my skin crawl. Particularly given the state of partial nudity I was in under my robes. I quickly grabbed a fresh set of smallclothes and headed to the bath.

I could hear someone gossiping on the other side of the room when I returned from the bath. "_Did you see her? Is she awake?" "Why, are you suddenly best friends?"_ I recognized the voice, Amelia. She was… not my favorite person. She thought I was a sin-filled blight in the Maker's eyes, and I thought she was a sniveling Chantry pansy. _"Cullen said it was the quickest Harrowing he'd ever seen," _the first went on. _"He said she's very brave."_ "_Well, he **would** say that, wouldn't he?_" I rolled my eyes. The templar Cullen's long standing crush on me was as confusing as it was embarrassing. At least he was nice, though. Most of the templars wouldn't even talk to us. I just did my best not to encourage him. Since I had no clue why he had developed a crush on someone like me in the first place I wasn't quite sure how to do that, either, unfortunately.

"You know I'm _right_ here," I called out. They both stopped talking quickly. I headed through the apprentice library, hearing a few other people gossiping about my Harrowing. Some of them called out congratulations, which I thanked them for. For some reason a bunch of people were also discussing blood magic. Apparently an apprentice was suspected. I vaguely wondered who, and figured it was an idle rumor. It seemed like everyone whispered that someone was secretly a maleficar at least once a year. Needed to do something to deal with our boredom, after all, mindless gossip was as good as anything.

"Jowan's been acting weird all day," someone said to me. "Have you seen him?"

"I just did," I said. "He heard I had my Harrowing last night but went to look for me before they brought me back. He thought…" I made a face.

"Ohhh. Well yeah, that _would_ explain it. Tell him I said hello." I nodded and continued upstairs.

Brennan was sitting on his bed, holding an open book and staring at the wall, when I walked past his room. I poked my head in. "Made it," I said, grinning. I couldn't really celebrate with Jowan, not when he was so worried for himself. Brennan had already passed the Harrowing, though. I didn't have to worry about that with him.

"Thank the Maker," he said, jumping to his feet and grabbing me into a hug. "I'll admit it now, I was up all night worrying."

"It was scary," I said, stating the obvious.

"I think it's supposed to be," he said. "You know Wendell? He threw up for a _week_ after his."

"Well, it wasn't _that_ scary."

He chuckled at that. "Not to _you_, maybe. So what are you doing today?"

I shrugged. "I guess Irving wants to see me. Not sure after that. I just wanted to stop by and let you know I, you know, survived."

"And here I thought it was just to get something you forgot," he said, reaching into his trunk and holding up my underpants. I groaned. "You know, I didn't even realize I'd forgotten them until they _came to get me_."

Brennan laughed. "Oh, that _is_ good. I'll have to tell my roommate about that, it might actually coax a smile out of him."

"I thought you didn't have a roommate?"

He shrugged. "They caught him. Tossed him in here not long after you left last night, I guess he was in solitary for a few weeks. He spent half the night staring at the wall and pouting, petting one of the mousers. After Mr. Wiggums got annoyed and ran off he paced the floor for several hours. Last I saw him was when I went downstairs to see if you were back yet. Jowan was sitting on your bed and he was talking to him. Not very successfully, mind you. Jowan was making his 'looking for a place to hide' face."

"Jowan?" I said. "That's weird. I just saw him, he didn't mention anything like that. Granted, he was still in shock from when he thought I was dead."

"Who knows," Brennan said. "He's crazy. It's that guy who always escapes and gets caught. I wish I knew how he kept managing to get out, but clearly his method is missing a few steps if they always drag him back." Oh, didn't _that_ just figure. Fantastic. "But, you'd better see what Irving wants. He'll probably give you the rest of the day to yourself. Come back if he does, I don't have anything left to do today." He gave me a kiss and I went on my way.

I was waylaid running into Cullen near Irving's office. He informed me he was the one who would have cut off my head if I'd failed. But it wouldn't have been personal. Um, thanks? I tried to be polite, though. I couldn't blame him for having a crush. Maker knows I'd been there myself. Didn't mean I would break my 'no templars' rule for him or anything, but there was no point in being cruel either. He also mentioned being the one who carried me back downstairs after. That was, actually, something of a relief. Cullen was far too sweet and shy to do anything gross or creepy while I was unconscious. The same couldn't be said for a lot of the other templars.

I finally made it to Irving's office. The Knight-Commander was standing with him, as well as another man. He had the strangest armor I'd ever seen, as long as a mage's robe and covered in dozens of buckles and straps. It was gorgeous. To that end, he wasn't bad either for an old guy. He had long hair and an earring, two things that always caught my attention. I tried not to stare. Staying back beyond the doorway I hoped I was out of sight so I could listen in. The three were arguing. Greagoir was complaining about how many mages had already left for Ostagar. _Ostagar?_ I thought. Ohh… the darkspawn fight Brennan mentioned, that must be where it was. Irving was… Maker's breath, Irving was _mocking_ Greagoir. This is phenomenal. First I survived my Harrowing, and now I get to hear the First Enchanter rip into the Knight-Commander about the Chantry being afraid of letting us use our powers. Oooh, our _maker-given_ powers. Even better, they really _hated_ admitting that we were born this way and refused to admit that there might be some reason the Maker made some people mages. Could today get _any_ better?

"Gentlemen, someone is here to see you," an unfamiliar voice cut in. Damn… spotted.

"Um, hello," I said, stepping out from around the corner and into the room. I blushed, having been caught eavesdropping, but the stranger only smiled, as if he knew a joke I didn't.

Irving greeted me as 'the new sister in the Circle' and the stranger turned to him. "This is…?"

"Yes," Irving said, "this is she." Wait, this is who? Me? Why were they talking about me? I hoped it wasn't me getting in trouble again. Greagoir excused himself while this rattled around my head, leaving me alone with the armored man and Irving. "This is Duncan of the Grey Wardens," Irving told me. I hope my jaw didn't drop. I really hope it didn't. I'm pretty sure it did, though.

"A Grey Warden?" I gasped. "Here? In the tower? Really?" Wait, did I just _squeal_? Oh, that's just fantastic. _Stop gushing, Maggie_, my mind insisted. I resisted the urge to toss myself at his feet and scream '_take me with you!' _ An actual Grey Warden, right in front of me! Today was officially the best day ever.

He seemed too polite to acknowledge my bizarre behavior. "Grey Wardens go wherever duty sends them," he said. I nodded, trying not to look too much like an imbecile. Irving told me Duncan was there looking for mages to join the King's army.

_Be calm, Maggie_, my brain screamed. _Don't make him think you're insane_. "I would like to defend Ferelden," I said, trying to sound serious. People were serious when they went to war, right? I would like to go anywhere if it involved not looking at these walls for at least a few days. Being able to freeze a bunch of things solid while I was outside was simply a nice fringe benefit.

Duncan started talking about the darkspawn, the war in the south, and the potential for another blight. I nodded, listening closely. I thought telling him I'd already read every book the Circle's library had about the Wardens wouldn't go along with the 'don't act insane' plan. He had one of those voices I could listen to for hours on end, though, so it wasn't exactly a sacrifice if I already knew some of what he explained. Besides, a sodding Grey Warden. Right here! In front of me! Close enough for me to touch. But that would look crazy, and looking crazy was something I should most definitely avoid. I was tempted to ask if he had a griffon, but I knew they were extinct. Or so they said. Maybe the Grey Wardens had a secret horde of them somewhere, though. That would be pretty spectacular, but if it was the case I doubt he'd be allowed to tell me. And if it wasn't, well, I suppose asking wouldn't exactly present my best face.

Of course, Irving cut him off, saying he would worry me with talk of blights and darkspawn. _Noooo,_ I thought, as they spoke, ignoring me again. Finally the First Enchanter turned back to me. "The Harrowing is behind you. Your phylactery has been sent to Denerim. You are officially a mage of the Circle of Magi."

"My leash, you mean," I said, nearly slapping a hand over my mouth as soon as the words were out. This caused Duncan to ask what a phylactery was. When Irving explained it the Grey Warden didn't sound approving. He actually sounded fairly scornful of the entire idea, which earned him another point in his favor.

Irving made excuses for the Chantry, of course, before handing me my new robes and a staff. "So… what happens now?" I asked, rocking on my feet. "Can I join the army?" Irving told me to be patient before asking if I would show Duncan to the guest quarters.

I didn't want to torment him with questions as we walked through the tower. I really didn't. But we hadn't gone more than five feet before my mouth opened and words just… fell out. _Maker's breath, did I just say I was **in awe**_**? **_Oh, shut up, Maggie, **please**_. At least he seemed more amused than anything else.

I was surprised to see how much he seemed to hold the Chantry's attitude towards mages in contempt. I'd never met someone who wasn't a mage or templar, not since I came to the Circle, and I always assumed everyone hated us by default. That's what they tell us, after all. The Circle protects us from the world that would kill us all if given the chance. Huh. "Are there mages in the Grey Wardens?" I asked him suddenly.

"Of course," he said. "We welcome anyone with the skill to fight the darkspawn." He thanked me when we arrived at the guest quarters. On impulse I spun back before leaving.

"Do you think I could join the battle in the South?" I almost asked if I could fight with the army but, well, I had something else in mind already.

"I don't know, do you?" he said, almost laughing.

I shrugged. "Well, to be honest, I'm not a healer. Not even close. But if you need someone who can launch fireballs the size of a cottage or freeze a bunch of darkspawn solid I'm your girl. I'm really only good at the kind of magic that kills things. There aren't many uses for someone like me besides fighting, it seems a waste to leave me here during a war."

I tried to read his expression. He seemed… pleased? Amused? It was difficult to tell with the beard. "Perhaps I shall speak to Irving about this later," Duncan finally said. I asked him more about the Grey Wardens and thanked him before excusing myself, trying not to trip over my feet on the way out.

Jowan was milling about in the hall, waiting for me, when I left. "Jowan!" I gasped out, putting a hand on each of his shoulders as I bounced around the hall like a maniac. "Did you see? A Grey Warden? And he talked to me! And he's going to talk to Irving about letting me go to fight the darkspawn in the south!" I stopped talking, hearing a chuckle in the distance. I suspect I was being somewhat louder than I thought, and felt stupid once more.

Jowan looked at me like I was insane. "You were actually _serious_ about wanting to join the army?" he shook his head. "Suit yourself."

"Maybe not the army," I whispered before giggling. He shook his head. Raising my voice back to a normal tone I asked "what's going on?"

Jowan dropped _his_ voice to a whisper then. "I need to talk to you. Do you remember what we discussed this morning?"

"Jowan, why are you whispering? They'll think we're up to something again."

He made a face. He was clearly very on edge about _something_, that much was obvious. He shushed me. "I want to make sure we're not overheard." Well, that would explain the whispering and shushing. "Let's go somewhere else, I don't feel safe talking here."

"Jowan, what's wrong?"

"Just… come with me, I'll explain." He led me through the halls and into the chapel, standing near a priest.

"You're kidding, right?" I said. "The Chapel? There's a priest _right next to you_. This is your let's talk spot?" I examined him closely, grabbing him by the chin and prying his mouth open to smell his breath. "Are you drunk?"

"Maggie, get off me!" he said, pushing me back. "No!"

"Not a priest, I'm only an initiate," the girl said. Oh… well, that changes… hm, nothing at all.

"Jowan? What's going on?"

"Well," he said, "you said you wanted to meet my mystery girl. This is Lily."

I smacked my hand against my face, groaning. No, couldn't be another apprentice, couldn't be a mage, couldn't even be a sodding templar. Jowan had to go and find himself a little priest to be. Maker's breath, he said _I _was insane? "Jowan, are you _out of your sodding mind_? Are both of you? Do you know what they'll _do_ to you?" I swear, dating that addlebrained moron Keili who did nothing but pray for the Maker to take her magic away from dawn to dusk would be better. Actually… it might not be much different from his end of things, nonstop prayer was what priests did all day, after all. At least it wouldn't make him likely to get locked up in Aeonar, though.

"So you can see why we wanted to keep it secret," Lily replied. Oh, you could say that.

"Lily's been given to the Chantry. She's not allowed to have… relations with men. If anyone finds out… we'll both be in trouble."

"Yeah… no kidding," I said, before snickering and adding "_relations." _ I giggled at his archaic phrasing.

"Very mature, Maggie," Jowan said.

"Sorry. Look, I won't tell, obviously, but… bad idea. Bad bad idea. My plan to make an ice raft so we could run away? The one you said was the most idiotic thing you'd ever heard? This is actually _worse_."

"I won't give Lily up for anything," Jowan said stubbornly. I knew that tone of voice. He meant it, Maker help him.

"Well, you can't be acting like this if you only wanted to tell me about your great forbidden love," I said.

"I wish," Jowan replied. "Remember how I said I didn't think they would give me my Harrowing? I was right… they're going to make me tranquil!"

"What? No! You're… no!" I shook my head, not wanting to believe him. "How did you find out? Are you sure? No! This can't be right!" But no, Lily saw the paperwork authorizing it right on Greagoir's desk. As if I needed more reason to dislike that bastard. "Why are they doing this?" I wanted nothing more than to hug him, but since Lily apparently worried we were secretly in love I resisted the temptation. Although he might have said that so he wouldn't have to listen to me pester him about not dating a _priest_! "Why?" I asked, fighting back tears.

"I've been sneaking around to see Lily. Someone must have seen me and assumed I was sneaking for a different reason. Now there's a rumor I'm a… _blood mage_." I raised an eyebrow. _Jowan_? A _blood mage_? Nervous Jowan? Jowan who didn't even like _reading_ about bloody battles? Not sodding likely. Everyone knew if one of us was going to snap and go maleficar I'd be the more likely of the two given my… liberal interpretation of the Chant. Fortunately my self-preservation instinct was stronger than my curiosity. I think the idea of Jowan actually cutting himself open, on purpose, to cast a spell made me laugh. He gave me a dirty look.

"So, what are we going to do?" I finally asked. Hopefully he had a plan already.

"I need to get out," he said. Well, that was obvious. Maybe I should use this as an excuse to talk to the escape artist, he could certainly offer some advice in that arena. "I need to escape, and destroy my phylactery so they can't track me down."

"Do you have a plan?"

Lily looked at me, asking for my word. I cast her an incredulous glance, noticing Jowan did the same thing. Was I some stranger they grabbed at random from the hall or something? My _word_? "What? Of _course_ you have my word," I said, not bothering to hide how insulted I was by the question. Once I said that she explained how we could get into the repository using a rod of fire. I ran off to the stockroom to get one, hoping it would be as easy as they said. Or almost as easy. Or not ending in all of us being executed.

On impulse I decided to detour by Irving's office. "I trust you saw Duncan back to his quarters?" he asked as soon as I walked in.

"Of course," I said. "I was glad to have a chance to speak with him." Irving said something about how we could learn much from the Grey Wardens. I hoped to do just that. Ideally in a very specific, direct, and 'no longer living in the tower' way. "Did you know they accept mages in the Grey Wardens?" I asked.

"I suspect you didn't need to meet Duncan to learn that," he said, deliberately ignoring my hint. Well, it was worth a shot.

"When is Jowan getting his Harrowing?" I asked him, watching his face closely.

He looked down at the floor. "When… he is ready." I felt my stomach sink. It was true, they were going to make him tranquil.

"He's going insane, terrified that he'll be made tranquil," I pressed on, hoping I was wrong. But I wasn't. Irving admitted it openly, even realizing Lily was his source. Apparently they hadn't been as secretive as Jowan thought.

"Why are you doing this to him?"

"Greagoir has proof, and eyewitness testimony, that Jowan has been practicing blood magic."

Oh… fantastic. _Greagoir_. "Greagoir _hates_ him, he hates all mages, of course he'd say that. Jowan almost fainted when he cut himself making a health poultice, he could never be a blood mage. You _know _that! It's a lie!" Irving defended the bastard, of course, and told me I didn't 'understand.'

"Killing him would be kinder. Does the Chantry want another soulless slave to wash the floors and work in the shops?" I snapped. "This is wrong, and you know it. I have nothing more to say." I stormed out, slamming the door, and walked straight to the stockroom. Trying not to let my revulsion show when the tranquil man working there explained I needed a senor enchanter's signature, I nodded and left, form in hand.

"We have a problem," I said to Jowan. "They need a senior mage to approve this."

He looked at the form. "I can only do Wynne and Uldred's signatures, and they've both gone to Ostagar."

I snorted. "I can do Irving's for all the good that'll do us."

"Old Sweeney," he finally said. "Odds are he'll forget you even talked to him once you leave the room."

"Old Sweeney's still here?" I said. "I thought his kids came to get him." He had somehow managed to meet and marry a normal woman and had several children, none of whom were mages.

Jowan made a face. "The templars wouldn't let him, they said he could be a danger. I'm sure they'd just put him down if they could, but the same goes for any of us mages." He sighed. "He's usually in the library, just reads the same books over and over again." That was perhaps the saddest thing I'd ever heard. I sighed and nodded, turning to go to the library.

I stopped by my new quarters on the way there to change into the yellow mage's robes. I figured if I kept walking around in the apprentice ones people would wonder why. I should try and look like it was just a normal day, not like I was on some mission. Although I wanted to go tell Brennan what was happening it seemed like a bad idea. If we did get in trouble I didn't want to involve him, too.

Wandering into the library I paused to say hello to Niall briefly. He was apparently still on his 'I want to live on a deserted island' kick. I could see the logic behind the isolationist viewpoint, but really, how dull would that be? And not much different from the tower, anyways. Technically we _did _live on an island. A tower, on an island, and it was _horrible_. No, no isolationism for me. I couldn't wait to see what Uldred would have to say when he got back from Ostagar. Maybe I'd even have a chance to ask him there if that Grey Warden convinced Irving to let me go fight.

Speaking of the Grey Warden, to my surprise Duncan was in the library as well, and he recognized me. Most likely because I'd made a complete fool of myself, but hey, better than being forgotten. He asked me if, of all things, I was _scared_ of using my power against the darkspawn. "Of course not," I said. "I've never felt endangered by my own magic. Might as well use it if you have it, anyways." I figured I could assume he was speaking of possession and abominations, not… literal danger. I'm sure I didn't need to tell him about when I burnt my hair off a few years back. That was an accident. And it was mostly Jowan's fault, he snuck up behind me.

I was right. "What about abominations? Or blood magic? Do you deny these things exist?"

"Obviously not," I said. "Abomination is a fear for anyone not powerful enough to control their magic, or not aware of their own limitations. I'm neither." I glanced around and dropped my voice. "As for blood magic, I suspect if it was really half as powerful as they claimed, well… they certainly wouldn't be able to _catch _blood mages. I think the danger is exaggerated to scare us away from it." I shrugged. "We know very little about it, that alone can be dangerous when learning new magic. But, even if I could learn more, I have no interest in finding my guts draped on some templar's blade, so I'm not about to try for myself." I stared at him, sure my confusion was showing on my face. Didn't he tell me, just a couple hours earlier, that Grey Wardens had used blood magic in the past? Was this a test of some kind? Did I pass?

"Irving has taught you well, I see," he said cryptically. Well, that didn't explain anything. "But, I'm sure you have better things to do than chat with an old man. Good day, we shall meet again." My ears perked up at that. Meet again? Did that mean Irving was letting me go to the war? I suppose I would find out, assuming I didn't end up dead by the end of the day. Today was possibly the _worst_ day for Jowan to send me on some suicidal errand, but he certainly couldn't help the timing. Maker knows I wasn't about to tell him he was on his own.

I said goodbye, wondering how old Duncan actually was. He didn't look like he could have been more than five and forty, even that seemed unlikely. But he talked like he was as old as Irving or Old Sweeney.

That reminded me of my real reason for entering the library. I looked around and spotted him, bent over a table in the corner. He didn't recognize me at first, which was unsurprising given that Sweeney was half blind and older than Andraste. Really, though, they couldn't get a healer to fix his eyes? If someone as incompetent in the Creation school as me could see the film on them a great healer like Wynne had to notice. That wasn't forbidden magic, just… being nice!

I asked about the rod of fire and he looked over the form, laughing. "I remember when the junior mages I mentored asked for some of these," he said, grinning. "Turns out they were burning holes in each other's trousers! One boy burned peepholes into the female apprentice's dormitory!" Huh, I guess that explains where the peepholes came from. I'd always wondered. "You're not involved in any such rubbish, are you?" Sweeney asked me sharply, glaring at me before he began giggling. "Oh, of course not. Look at you, so angelic." He lifted one of his arthritic hands to pat me on the cheek. Well, now I certainly felt guilty. But, he signed the form on the promise that I'd burn a hole in the seat of the trousers of the templar who patrolled the library. That I could happily agree to.

* * *

_So glad everyone is enjoying the early days of Maggie so far. Thanks so much for the reviews! I have to admit, I'm having an lot of fun writing it since I've gone back and started replaying the game as I did. While I'm keeping some of the dialogue true to game, a lot is tweaked rather heavily. I'm still deciding just how far I can tweak the dialogue, since I'm usually big on staying within canon. Hmmm... have to figure that out.  
_

_Also, as an experiment I now allow anonymous reviews. So hopefully that won't backfire on me. ;)  
_


	4. But that wasn't the point!

Seeing no one else in the chapel I waved the rod of fire over my head triumphantly as I walked in. "Got it," I said.

"That was quick!" Jowan said, sounding impressed. As it turned out, it was also a waste of time. The plan had been to melt a lock off the door of the phylactery chamber with the rod. None of us knew the door was warded, though, negating any magic from the rod, myself, and Jowan. It fizzled in my hand, making it about as effective as just spitting on the door would have been. In fact, I did just that in my frustration. We had to take another route, hoping we'd find a different, less protected, way in via the repository.

The door wasn't protected from magic, true, but that didn't mean it was defenseless.

"Maker's breath! What was that?" Jowan said, looking down at an attacker we just dispatched.

"Um… a suit of armor? With a… skeleton inside?" I decided to check the pockets and was rewarded with a few silvers. "Ooh, money!"

"You're _looting_ it?" he asked, looking at me with shock.

"Sure," I said. It tried to kill me, taking its money seemed only fair. He didn't seem any less surprised when I started to dig through cabinets in every room we passed, but stopped complaining once I passed him a staff and gave Lily a dagger and axe. "Godwin has a friend outside the Circle, if I give him money he can get me stuff," I explained, pocketing half a sovereign I found on another of the armored skeletons.

"Stuff?" Lily said, looking worried.

"Sure," I said. "Booze. Maybe candy. Ooh, chocolate! We only get it once a year, you know, on First Day. And it's always kind of grey and gritty. I hear it's much nicer outside. Dirty books. You know, fun stuff." She looked faintly horrified by that. I didn't see why, it's not like I was hoping for someone to bring me weapons and forbidden tomes of blood magic. We finally made our way to the main repository. "Is that a Tevinter statue?" I asked, looking around.

"There's something odd about it…" Jowan said, moving in for a closer look.

"Why is it here?" I wondered aloud.

"How should I know? I don't exactly come down here very often." He shrugged, looking at the statue. "Maybe it's magical. This _is_ a room full of magical objects."

I hate it when Jowan points out the obvious and is right. Since, of course, it _was_ a magical statue. A magical _talking_ statue, to be specific. Apparently the spirit of some poor woman cursed to become stone when she foretold the fall of one archon or another.

"A Tevinter statue!" Lily gasped, horrified. "Don't listen to it! The Tevinter lords dabbled in many forbidden arts, this is a wicked thing!" Well, technically they weren't forbidden at the time, but I suppose the Chantry didn't like to talk about a time when they didn't exist.

"This must be very old," I said to myself.

"It must have been here for years," Jowan mused. "Look at the dust. I feel a little sorry for it… her."

"Weep not for me, child. Stone they made me, and stone I am, eternal and unfeeling. I shall endure until the Maker returns to light their fires again." Well, that's… creepy and vague.

"Do you need any help?" I asked it. Her?

"No help can be given, for this is my doom and my destiny." I nodded, backing away from the creepy statue.

Jowan seemed to be of the same mind as me. "Ambiguous rubbish," he muttered. "It could mean anything. I can do it, too." He tossed his hands in the air, waving them dramatically. "The sun grows dark, but lo! Here comes the dawn!" I snorted with laughter, elbowing him. Lily begged us to stop talking to the statue and I tried not to roll my eyes. I realize this isn't her best day, but Maker's breath, what did Jowan see in this girl? She did nothing but fret and order him around. And I was pretty sure she bought in to the chantry line about mages a bit too much for someone who was _having relations_ with one of them.

"Look at this!" Jowan called from the other side of the room. "I never realized the Circle had amassed this much treasure." I walked over and started poking through the chest he'd opened.

Lily called out that we shouldn't touch anything. This time I couldn't resist rolling my eyes. "Stop mothering him," I said. "He's an adult."

"The Circle must have good reason to—"

"You mean the very same Circle that wants to make him _tranquil_," I said. "Yeah, I'm sure their intentions are _always_ fantastic."

Jowan pulled a staff from the chest, I'd never seen anything like it. Leather cords wrapped around it with teeth dangling from them. Maybe it was from a witch of the wilds? "The engraving looks like ancient Tevinter…" he muttered, examining it.

"Oooh," I muttered, snatching it from his hands and putting it on my back. "What?" I said when Jowan glared at me. "You're giving up all magic forever, aren't you? Like, in an _hour_. I'm not."

He managed a smile at that. "All right, enjoy." We walked through the room. "What do you think that does?" Jowan said, pointing at a statue of a wolf.

"I like it," I said. "I think it's decorative, though. Dog statues, wolf statues… Very Ferelden."

"Why does the Circle keep so many Tevinter artifacts in storage," Lily said, sounding horrified.

"Because it's history, Lily," Jowan told her with more patience than I could manage. "And it's fascinating." He was examining the statue closely. Jowan was obsessed with Tevinter artifacts. I think he'd been the first among our class to master their language, just because of how much he read on his own.

"Most formal magic comes from Tevinter," I added. "And we're, you know, _mages_."

"I've seen pictures of something like this before," Jowan said, examining it closely. "They amplify any spell cast into them." He paused, thinking. "I bet we could use this to break into the phylactery chamber!"

I gave the statue an experimental shove. It was stone, a very heavy stone to be specific. "I don't think we can move it to the door," I said.

He looked around, pointing out a bookcase. "See the mortar might be decaying behind that bookcase? Let's take a closer look." I walked over, he was right about the wall. I don't even think it was original to the tower, just an old doorway someone bricked over. "It should be easy to get this out of the way," Jowan said, positioning himself to shove the bookcase. "If we work together we can shift it."

I nodded and knelt below him, pushing at the base of the bookshelf while he leaned over me to shove at the top. Once it was clear I took a closer look. I might have been able to knock the wall free without the help of the statue. But, if it would narrow the spell I wouldn't have to worry about scorching half the room in the process.

"Use this with the rod," Jowan said. "Hurry."

I nodded and aimed the rod at the wolf figure. Sure enough, a powerful burst of blue flames burst from the open mouth, knocking the wall free.

He ran ahead, bolting into the room. Although we had more guardians to fight it was soon clear. I had to admit, fighting the armored skeletons was remarkably _fun_. When they fell I couldn't help but laugh and cheer, even though I was panting with exertion. Jowan looked at me and shook his head. "Having fun?" he asked.

"Actually... yes," I admitted. "Kind of neat, actually being able to kill things. I mean, they're monsters anyways so it's not like anyone will miss them!" He shook his head and walked over to the collection of vials.

I examined all the shelves. There were so many, I had no idea how we would find his. Several were set aside on a small table, though. One began glowing faintly as we approached. _Of course,_ I thought. _They set his aside since he's marked to be made tranquil tonight._ I suppressed a wave of nausea at the thought. I picked up the vial and passed it to him. "I think this is yours."

"That's my phylactery! You found it! I can't believe this tiny vial stands between me and freedom."

"I wish mine was still here," I said, feeling jealous.

"Would you break it if it was?"

"Of course," I said. "Then I could escape, too."

"You could anyways," Lily said.

Jowan nodded. "You're talented and clever. You could take your phylactery back from your hunters. We'll be out of here before they could even dispatch a messenger to Denerim. Once you're free… you have so much power, they won't be able to stop you."

"I guess that could work," I said, not wanting to get into a debate. It didn't seem like it could be as easy as he made it sound. Plenty of mages escaped and were caught, if taking your phylactery back from a templar was that simple no one would get dragged back kicking and screaming. I might be a powerful mage but if without my magic I was barely able to throw a punch, much less defend myself against an armed and armored templar.

Jowan was ignoring me, though, gazing at the vial. He looked entranced. "So fragile…" he whispered. "So easy just to be rid of it, end it's hold over me." He dropped it to the ground, I watched it shatter. "And I am free."

"Took you a while," I said. "Kinda creepy there, Jowan."

"Well, it's done now," he said. "Let's leave." Lily agreed with that and the three of us headed for the first door. From this side it opened easily. "We did it!" he said, as soon as we were back on the ground floor of the tower. "I can't believe it! Thank you!" He grabbed me in a hug. "We could never have—"

"So what you said was true, Irving," said a voice from nearby. I looked over, the Knight-Commander was striding towards us. Irving and several other templars were with him.

"G-Greagoir," Lily gasped, taking a step to hide behind Jowan. Oh, this was bad. I took a breath, trying to think of a reasonable explanation they would buy. Nothing came to mind.

"An initiate, conspiring with a blood mage," he said, staring at Lily. "She seems shocked, but fully in control of her own mind. Not a _thrall_ of the blood mage, then." He looked over at the First Enchanter. "You were right, Irving. The initiate has betrayed us, the Chantry will not let this go unpunished." Lily was shaking beside me. I probably was too, though, so I couldn't judge. "And this one," he said, turning on me. "Newly a mage, and already flouting the rules of the circle."

"I'm disappointed in you," Irving said. I winced. "You could have told me what you knew of this plan and you didn't." Well, _obviously_ I didn't. I helped them. If I told him they'd be caught, why would I bother helping them if I _wanted _to see Jowan made into a mindless zombie? We both faced worse now, of course. But that wasn't the point!

"You don't care for the mages," Jowan shouted at him. "You just bow to the Chantry's every whim." Oh, he picks _now_ to start standing up for himself? Almost two decades of letting me do the yelling for both of us and _this_ is when Jowan decides to start being loud and obnoxious. Perfect timing. Really.

"Jowan, you'll just make it worse," I whispered.

"How much worse can it get?" he replied.

"_Enough!_" Greagoir roared. "As Knight-Commander of the templars I sentence this blood mage to death." Well, that's worse. I gasped and clutched Jowan's arm. "And the initiate has scorned the Chantry and her vows. Take her to Aeonar."

"The mages' prison," Lily gasped, clearly horrified. "No… please, no! Not there!" I couldn't stop myself from glaring at her. At least she wasn't being _executed_.

"No!" Jowan shouted, "I won't let you touch her." I turned to look at him. While I would normally say this wasn't the time for threats, really, what did he have to lose? I didn't know what he thought he could do against half a dozen templars, though.

And then he pulled out a knife.

_No. _It felt like time slowed down. I watched him slowly, calmly, and very, very deliberately stab at his own hand. No, this was _impossible. _It was crazy. Jowan wasn't a blood mage. He couldn't be! Jowan hated the sight of blood. A red mist surrounded him. There had to be some mistake, though. Jowan wasn't a _blood mage_. The idea was absurd. Not Jowan who finished my sentences as much as I finished his. Not Jowan who sat waiting for me to wake after my harrowing. Not Jowan who clearly cried when he thought I hadn't survived it. Not sweet Jowan who used to heal my skinned knees when I fell on the stairs. He could _never_ be a blood mage. With a roar he directed his arms at the templars and, a flick of his hand later, they flew backwards, slamming into the ground. I stared up at him, confused. He wouldn't meet my gaze and looked at Lily instead.

"Blood magic?" she gasped, backing away. "I… I gave up everything for you! I don't know _who you are_! Stay away from me, blood mage."

She had to be wrong, though. There was no way Jowan was a blood mage. Jowan was my best friend in the world. Sometimes my only friend. If he was a blood mage I would know because he would _tell me_. We would be together in it, like with everything else. We'd both be blood mages if he was one. Since he never told me, well, he couldn't be a blood mage. That was the only reasonable answer. I looked up at him. He finally met my eyes. His were guilty, far guiltier than I'd ever seen him look. Without a word he turned and ran.

And I was alone.

I looked down. My robes, my brand new yellow mage robes, were covered in blood. _Jowan's blood._ I shuddered and wiped my hand off, some had splashed on my skin. _When he cut himself._ Lily and I were the only conscious people in the room. I could have run, but I felt rooted to the ground. _The ground that's covered in Jowan's blood_, my mind helpfully reminded me. _Because he's a blood mage_.

Oh Maker. He _was_ a blood mage. And he _never told me_. "You _bastard!_" I screamed at the doors. He was long gone, maybe swimming across the lake. Could he even swim? Oh, well I guess he could just use his _blood magic_ to get across. Who knows what it was capable of? Not me, since _he never told me._

Irving began to groan and I snapped back to reality. Rushing over I helped him up. Maybe I could still get away with, what, a couple years solitary confinement? Well, I knew what that would entail for a female mage. Hopefully I'd get lucky and they'd hang me instead. Or behead me. Beheading was faster and supposed to hurt less. Or maybe I'd get Aeonar, too. At least I'd know someone there. That wouldn't be so bad. When the ravaged veil there drove me slobbering mad maybe she'd wipe my drool up while I screamed at the shadows.

Oh, this wasn't good. Not at all.

"Are you all right?" Irving asked me. I nodded mutely. "Where's Greagoir?"

Greagoir stood up and walked over to us. "I knew it," he said. "Blood magic! But to overcome so many… I never thought him capable of such power!"

They both looked at me. I guess it was my turn to talk. "I can't believe he did that," I said quietly, not sure what else I _could_ say. Somehow I didn't think an 'I'm sorry' would cut it.

"None of us expected this," Irving said, patting my arm. "Are _you_ all right, Greagoir?"

"As good as can be expected, given the circumstances!" he snapped. "Now we have a blood mage on the loose and no way to track him down! If you'd let me act sooner this wouldn't have happened!"

I nodded, barely aware of my own actions. "He destroyed his phylactery."

Greagoir looked at me with disgust and turned on his heel. "Where is the girl?" he barked out to the other templars, most of whom were still climbing up from the ground.

"I'm here, ser," she muttered, stepping forward from the corner she retreated to when Jowan used _sodding blood magic_.

"You helped a blood mage!" he shouted at her. "Look at all he's hurt!" I looked around. While the templars and Irving were a bit bruised, no one was _dead_. Really, the permanent damage was limited to a wall and a glass vial.

"She didn't know he was a blood mage," I said, feeling bad for her. "Neither of us did!" He'd managed to hide it from both of us. If I was miserable over it I couldn't imagine she felt much better. She waved me off, though, saying that I'd been a good friend but didn't need to defend her. Lily admitted to helping Jowan, and said she would accept any punishment, including Aeonar. I shook my head. She was saying that _now_, sure. In a month or two when she wasn't so heartbroken she would regret it.

The templars, now on their feet, dragged her off somewhere on Greagoir's orders. I stood, wondering if it was too late to make a break for it. Probably. "And _you_," he hissed, turning back to me. Yep, too late to run. "You were in a repository full of magics that are locked away for a reason."

Irving looked at me, asking if I took anything. I shook my head and he nodded, patting my shoulder. "Very well," he said.

"Your antics have made a mockery of the Circle," Greagoir said. "This isn't some stolen bottle of liquor or sneaking around in the middle of the night! What are we to do with you?"

"I didn't know he was a blood mage," I said. It was true, but, well, saying it out loud didn't make me sound any better.

"You think this _excuses_ you?" he roared. I shrank back. "You helped a maleficar escape! All our prevention measures for naught, because of _you_! We both know Jowan couldn't have done this on his own!" He made a face. "He probably couldn't even come up with the idea without your aid! You've always been the mastermind of your little schemes." I looked at my feet and bit my lip. I wouldn't cry in front of the Knight-Commander. They would probably execute me, but I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing me cry first. "What a waste," he sneered, looking at me.

"Knight-Commander, if I may…" someone spoke up. I looked over, the Grey Warden was walking towards us, very quickly. Good. That was… fantastic that he was here. Now my humiliation could be _really _complete. Now not only was I getting screamed at before they cut off my head or sent me to prison, they could do it all right in front of the one person I'd hoped to actually _impress_. Lovely. Maybe when all this was over they could immortalize the moment in a nice woodcut and send a copy off to my parents so they could see what a success their cursed child became. "I'm not only looking for mages to join the king's army. I'm also recruiting for the Grey Wardens." I could actually _hear_ my neck snap, that's how fast I turned to stare at him. I might have gasped. Actually, I think "squeak" is more accurate. "Irving spoke highly of this mage, and I would like her to join the Warden ranks." Then I did squeak, eyes darting from him to the First Enchanter. I'd had no idea. Was that why they had been talking about me? Was he just trying to dump his loud troublemaker off on someone else, or did he _really_ think I was that good?

"Duncan, this mage has assisted a maleficar and shown a lack of regard for the Circle's rules," Irving said. Well, I guess if he did think I was that good he didn't anymore.

"She's a _danger_," Greagoir added, glaring at me. "To all of us."

Duncan walked over and stood beside me, though, putting a hand on my shoulder. "It is a rare person who risks all for a friend in need," he said. "I stand by my decision, I will recruit this mage." I put my hands over my mouth, covering the enormous grin I could feel forming. I was tempted to laugh and point at Greagoir. I was tempted to shout and jump up and down. I'd read enough about the Grey Wardens to know what that meant. If they wanted someone they could take them. Even kings! Pulling one mage from the Circle was certainly something within their power.

"No!" Greagoir shouted. "I refuse to let this go unpunished!" I guess he hadn't read the same books I had.

"Greagoir," he said. "Mages are needed. _This_ mage is needed. Worse things plague this world than blood magic. You _know_ that." He sounded like someone who knew he would get his way but wanted to do so without offending anyone. "I take her under my wing and bear all responsibility for her actions."

The Knight-Commander seemed to deflate at this. He was actually pouting. I guess he really did want to execute me. "A blood mage escapes and his accomplice is not only unpunished but _rewarded_ by becoming a Grey Warden," he sighed. "Are our rules nothing? Have we lost all authority over our mages?" Greagoir looked at the First Enchanter, pointing a finger. "This does not bode well, Irving," he finished.

"Enough," Irving said, waving his hand dismissively. "We have no more say in this matter."

It seemed to be decided. "So… I'm going to be a Grey Warden?" I said finally, hoping someone would just confirm it for me instead of arguing back and forth.

"Yes," Irving said. "Be proud, child. You're luckier than you know." I nodded, fully aware of just how lucky I was. Thanking him I followed Duncan to the large main doors. For years I would walk down here and harass the templars guarding them, asking to go outside. Today, though, they actually opened.

Still in shock, I followed Duncan through the corridor. I'd never seen this part of the tower before. Or, I hadn't since arriving. Another door was at the far end, with more templars. Carroll, a particularly obnoxious templar who wasn't much older than me, was standing there picking at his nails. He stood up straight when our footsteps approached and looked over. When he saw me walking with Duncan his jaw dropped. "You're taking _her?_" he said, staring at the Grey Warden in shock.

"I am," Duncan replied. "Are you friends?" he asked, looking at me.

I snorted. "Not exactly, no."

"So do you always take lunatics?" Carroll said. I crossed my arms over my chest and his gaze snapped back up to eye level.

"If we decide to reevaluate our recruitment practices I'll take your advice into consideration," Duncan said, sounding vaguely annoyed.

"Huh. Well, your funeral." Carroll and the other templar pulled the massive doors open. "You know her best friend just ran through here. Jerk paralyzed us and bolted out the doors. We'll catch him, though."

I was mad at Jowan. Furious, really. But that didn't mean I wanted him _dead_. I was glad he got away. I sneered at Carroll. "No," I said. "You won't catch him." He made a face at me and I followed Duncan down the hall. I could see bright light at the end. The light, it turns out, was the sun.

I gasped when we walked outside, first looking up and then holding up both my hands to shield my eyes. "Bright…" I muttered, doubling over and taking a deep breath. Nausea washed over me and I fought it back. If I started rolling on the ground vomiting seconds after leaving the tower Duncan might just decide I wasn't going to be any use to him and send me back.

"Take your time," he said. "It can be shocking at first."

"I'm… fine," I gasped, forcing myself to stand up straight. I swayed on my feet but plastered a bright grin on my face. "Fine. See?"

He looked at me doubtfully. "How long have you been in the tower?" Duncan finally asked.

"Eighteen or nineteen years? Roughly? I don't know, time gets… funny."

He walked back over to where I was still standing, not far from the corridor's opening. "You haven't been outside in nearly two decades. I hardly think thirty seconds is an adequate adjustment period."

"No," I insisted. "I'll be fine. I promise! You don't need to worry about me, ser. I know what they say about me, and I know all that looked... _really_ bad, but I won't cause any problems. I swear!" _Please please please don't send me back,_ I silently prayed. _I'll get better. Don't send me back don't send me back don't send me back, they'll kill me! I'll be good I won't cause problems I'll be quiet I'll even learn healing just please don't send me back!  
_

Duncan sighed. "You feel sick," he said, looking at me. I tried to deny that but shaking my head only made it worse, I had to clamp a hand over my mouth before I could even get words out. "I'd much prefer you get it out of your system here than in the boat where it's likely to get on me." He actually looked somewhat amused by this. I shuffled off towards the shoreline, every step making me feel worse. Duncan turned his back politely. Dropping to my hands and knees I closed my eyes and was violently, painfully ill. Once there was nothing left in my stomach I coughed and choked a moment longer, insides still clenching. After several shuddering breaths I was able to sit back on my heels and open my eyes again, this time slowly. It was still bright, but no longer quite so painful. I took a few deep breaths and resisted the urge to look up, instead climbing to my feet and walking a few paces away from where I was ill, scooping lakewater up with my hands and swishing it through my mouth. It was dirty and brackish, and I spit it out quickly, but at least my breath wouldn't knock anyone over now. Returning to where Duncan was standing, I had to admit, I was actually starting to feel better.

"I'm sorry, ser," I said. "I don't know what happened. I'm never sick, I swear."

"No need to apologize," he said. "That's a perfectly normal reaction for anyone who has spent so many years indoors. You're not the first mage I've known, and Dwarves from Orzammar often experience the same thing when they see the surface for the first time." He patted my shoulder kindly. "Come, we have much to do. I'm hoping to find another recruit in Denerim, and from there we head to Ostagar. I wish I could allow you more time to adjust but given the circumstances…" he shrugged. "Darkspawn wait for no one."

"Yes, ser," I said, following him to the boat.

"Call me Duncan," he corrected me.

"Oh," I said, not realizing I was being rude. "Sorry, Ser Duncan."

He sighed. "No, just Duncan. I'm no knight. We don't hold titles." He had the tone of someone repeating a line he said very frequently.

"All right, Duncan," I said, climbing slowly into the tiny boat. "And thank you," I added as he sat down across from me. The man operating the boat began to row us across. "You probably saved my life."

Duncan was shivering, rubbing his hands together. I looked at him again and noticed his skin was much darker than anyone I'd ever met. Maybe he was from somewhere warmer than Ferelden? But, he had the same accent I did, so that didn't make much sense. I conjured up a flame on my palm and held my hand out towards him. He nodded gratefully and warmed his hands over the fire. "I don't think there's any _probably_ about it," he said, casting a grim look back at the tower. Unable to resist the temptation I raised my other hand, shooting the finger at the tower and making a face as we moved away from it. Duncan turned back towards me just in time to catch that and shook his head, chuckling softly.

* * *

_Poor Maggie. Not her finest moment. Some in game dialogue, some tweaked. Still looking for the right balance..._

_Thanks so much to everyone who reads and reviews. My deep addiction to reviews is well documented, though. ;)_


	5. I'll just have to go for the eyes

I sighed gratefully once we were back on solid ground. Boats, apparently, were extraordinarily unpleasant. Not unlike being stuck in the middle of an earthquake spell with no end in sight. I could see a few small buildings set up on a hillside, and people wandering around. "Jowan?" I called, wondering if he was still near here somewhere. Of course, there was no answer.

"If that's your friend… he's probably miles from here by now. If he has any sense, at least." He thanked the man who operated the boat, calling him Kester, and pointed at a building closer than the others. I started to follow him towards it.

"That leaves a good chance he's still around, then," I said. But I didn't see anyone wearing anything like mage robes. Mine were attracting more than a few curious glances as it was.

Duncan laughed at that. "I don't know if you've eaten today, but I'm rather hungry," he said. "We can stop for a meal before continuing on our way. Three more members of our order have been staying here waiting for my business at the tower to be finished. They're heading on to Ostagar directly while we continue to Denerim." I hadn't eaten yet and was trying to think of a tactful way to bring it up to him, so that was a relief to me. At least I had the money I'd pocketed off the monsters we'd killed in the tower basement. I wouldn't have to ask him pay for my food. Especially since other Grey Wardens would be there. Showing up penniless and mooching wouldn't exactly make the best first impression. "That's a rather unusual staff," he remarked as we climbed the hill. I stumbled a few times, tripping on my long robes as we climbed the hill, but managed to make it to the top without any severe falls.

"Huh?" I said. "It's just standard Circle issue crap. As likely to snap in half if you grab it too tight as it is to work."

"_Really_?" he replied. "Teeth and all?"

I reached behind me and unshouldered the staff, looking at it. It was most certainly not my standard-issue gear Irving had given to me that morning. I was still carrying the strange staff Jowan had found in the Circle basement. "Andraste's ass," I muttered. "The repository! I forgot all about it." I looked up at him, blushing. "I think I stole this. Accidentally, though. I totally forgot I had it." And Irving had asked if I took anything, without even noticing it. Huh.

He shrugged, looking unconcerned. "It will do more good with you than gathering dust in some box in the tower's basement. Just try and keep the theft to an absolute minimum in the future. Our reputation in Ferelden is still very uncertain; it wouldn't do if one of us was _caught_ stealing things."

I snickered at that. It sounded like he was telling me to steal what I wanted as long as no one saw me. Following him into the building I sat down when Duncan pointed to a chair at a large table. He talked to a man behind the counter and walked upstairs, returning a moment later and sitting with me. While he did all this I dumped the money I had collected on the table and counted it. Duncan returned and I shoved the stack towards him. "I have this," I said proudly. "Is it enough for food?" It was, in total, almost four sovereign. I had no idea what a meal cost, though. That might not be enough, or it might feed me for a year.

"I don't know," he laughed, looking at the pile. "How many meals do you plan to eat?" I guess it was enough, then. "Where did a mage get this kind of coin? I know the Circle doesn't provide you with a stipend of any kind." I told him about searching the sentries in the basement we had killed.

He looked impressed. "Very resourceful," Duncan said, and pushed the money back towards me. "Keep that safe. You may see something you'd like while we travel. The order will provied all your food, board, and equipment, you'll receive a small stipend for personal items." He was very casual about it. I tried not to look shocked. I'd get _paid_! I could… go _shopping_! I had no idea what I would get, but I could get _things_! Fancy robes, like some of the mages stationed outside wore when they came back to visit, with the fur and gold and the short skirts that made the templars go red in the face. Amulets and a new staff that didn't look like it came out of a swamp. Books! Booze! I suspect my face gave me away. "It isn't much," he warned. "Don't get too excited. No one becomes a Grey Warden for the wealth."

"Of course," I said. Anything was more than I was used to getting, though. I didn't even know what a set of robes would cost. Probably a lot, knowing my luck. I'd have to figure out how to get some eventually, that was certain. I couldn't keep wearing the same thing every single day unless I wanted to scare people with my smell before they even noticed I was a mage. Duncan excused himself and went to speak with another man at the counter.

Three men came down the stairs and sat down while he was gone, all looking at me with open curiosity. It wasn't a hostile look, though, to my surprise. They looked as though they were expecting me. Or, someone, at least. I hadn't been sure what to expect from others given what I heard about how people treated mages. It wasn't as though the robes I was wearing or the staff on my back made much of a secret about it, either. "Hello," I said, assuming they were the other Grey Wardens Duncan had mentioned. One was blonde with a beard, one had a shaved head and scarred nose, the third had hair as dark as mine and stubble. All were younger than Duncan but older than me and wore short leather armor covered in buckles and straps. I had to resist the urge to look at their legs as they walked downstairs. Something told me that would be… inappropriate.

"Are you another healer?" shaved-head asked me.

"No," I said. "Primal, mostly."

"What's that mean?" he asked.

"Fire, stone, lightning. Ice is my favorite, though. I'm very good with ice."

He and the blonde man exchanged a glance. "So… you can make darkspawn _chilly_?" Both of them laughed at that. "Will you knit them sweaters after?"

"Don't be obnoxious, Colin," the dark haired man said, casting a dirty look at shaved-head, who was apparently named Colin. I gave him a grateful smile, which he returned, holding my glance slightly longer than seemed necessary. I was tempted to wink at him. He was rather handsome, despite having the same haircut as Jowan. I realized I had no idea if the Grey Wardens had a vow of celibacy, like templars. Hopefully someone would tell me if that was the case. Hopefully it wasn't. After all, it was made more than clear that I wouldn't be welcome back in the tower again. Any relationships I might have been involved in there were obviously over.

I sighed and picked up a roll from the basket on the table, setting it in front of me. Holding out a hand I froze it solid. Making sure they were watching I took a spoon from my place setting and tapped it on the top of the roll. It shattered into dozens of pieces, scattering across the table. I looked at the man they called Colin and raised my eyebrow. "I don't think a sweater will help them," I said. I held his gaze. "Failing that, I can set them on fire with a flick of my wrist, or knock them to the ground with a thought. I can shoot lightning from yards away. I can paralyze them, I can confuse them so their aim always falters, and bolster you so yours never misses." I grinned at him. "Or, I can take up knitting, I suppose. I never considered it, but I guess I could do some damage with the pointy sticks. I'll just have to go for the eyes." I mimed a stabbing gesture and the dark haired man burst out laughing.

The other two, to my surprise, followed suit. "Hey Duncan," the blond man called. "I like her, she's kind of scary for a little girl. She can stay." Well, I had no idea if I should be flattered or insulted by that statement.

"Margaret's skills will be of great use to us," Duncan told them, walking back over and sitting with us. He was carrying several bulky items. "The First Enchanter told me she's one of the most powerful mages he's seen in a generation." I perked up at that. I had no idea Irving thought such a thing about me.

"Maggie," I said. Duncan looked at me. "Only the templars and my teachers called me Margaret. Everyone else calls me Maggie."

"Very well," he said and introduced the other men. Colin was the bald man, as I'd already learned. The blond was Ned and the dark haired man was Kit. I nodded to each of them, trying to look friendly. I suppose I'd be working with them, well, forever. Kit winked at me. I grinned and winked back, and quickly looked down at my hands demurely when I caught sighing and looking at both of us.

"Didn't mean any offense," Colin said, smiling at me. "Wanted to make sure you could take a joke. Our other mage, I don't even think he knows _how_ to smile."

"I thought you only ever had one mage at a time," I said.

"One from the Circle," Duncan said. "We take in all the apostates we can, though of course the Chantry doesn't know. They may suspect, but we don't flaunt it, and legally they don't have any grounds to complain. I'd take more Circle mages but the Chantry complains. It's within our rights but… sometimes it's better to find a way to keep everyone happy." I was relieved. If they were already used to working with a mage I would just be one more, nothing strange or special. No wonder they hadn't looked as nervous as the people outside when they saw my robes. That, or Duncan told them he was planning to recruit someone at the tower.

"They sending more to Ostagar?" Kit asked.

"Unfortunately not," Duncan said. "The templars were strongly opposed to the idea. Leaving with Maggie didn't make the Knight-Commander any happier, either. I want you three to head south and warn everyone not to expect any more mages. Teyrn Loghain was counting on the Circle to respect the wishes of the king, his battle plans may need to be altered."

"He's an ass," I muttered. They all looked at me with shock and I quickly clarified. "The Knight-Commander, not Teyrn Loghain. Teyrn Loghain is _awesome. _I've read like every single book about him. When we were little they had a Satinalia party once. I dressed as him and made my best friend wear a blonde wig and go as Maric." I grinned at the memory. Jowan had complained about the wig but enjoyed that even the templars recognized our costumes since I stained a bedsheet purple with juice to imitate the famous cape of the Rebel Queen. One of them, an old man who retired not long after, actually ran off after seeing us and returned with wooden practice swords we could carry. No… daggers. They were practice daggers, but we were small enough they looked like enormous swords in our tiny hands. Maker, that must have been _years _ago. Some of the older apprentices, mages, and templars drank a bit too much wine and things ended up getting out of control. There had been a shouting match with the Libertarians and the templars, and no more Satinalia parties for us.

"Teyrn Loghain's practically my idol," I said. "But Greagoir?" I went on, "Greagoir's so full of himself I'm amazed his big fat head can fit through a door. No wonder he doesn't wear the bucket like the rest of them. Probably doesn't fit." Hey, the man had been ready to _execute_ me, I think I was entitled to a little hostility. The three Grey Wardens looked amused, Kit even laughed, but Duncan only sighed.

"He did have good reason to be upset," he said, looking at me.

I blushed. "Well… yeah," I admitted. "But he's _always_ like that. Last week he asked if I was sure I wasn't half-demon." Well, he'd specifically said _desire_ demon since he caught me in a dark alcove with a mage, but I didn't need to be quite that detailed. "I don't know what he'll do with himself now that I'm not around for him to yell at."

Someone brought out a huge pot of stew then, setting it in the middle of our table, and placed an empty bowl in front of us. I waited for all of them to get theirs before reaching for the ladle. "You'll have to move faster than that if you want to get any food around us," Colin said, grinning. It wasn't a mean grin, though, so I smiled back. I enjoyed the stew, and the bread I hadn't destroyed. Although the idea of seconds seemed appealing I decided against it, not being particularly hungry anymore. Now that I was done eating I watched as they all took seconds, and even thirds. I'd never seen people eat so much in my life. Did they go days between meals? Maybe I should have had a second bowl if that was the case. At least I didn't have to worry about my lousy table manners. The other side of the table looked like someone had poured the food right onto it.

After we finished eating Duncan handed me the items he had bought from the man at the counter. It turned out to be a brown leather bag, a rolled up blanket, and a pillow. "They didn't have any tents. We can check along the way, but you may have to use mine for a day or two. I don't mind sleeping outside." I had been wondering where I would sleep, I suppose that settled it. I felt bad that he would have to give up his own tent for me every night, though. Maybe I could just sleep outside. How bad could it be?

We set out after the meal was over and Duncan paid. I was having trouble keeping up with them, in addition to all being taller than me they clearly spent a lot more time walking than I had. Hopefully it would get easier with time. Maybe. It didn't help that every time the road inclined upward I had to remember to pick up the hems of my robes so I wouldn't trip. One of the men, Ned, sang to himself as we walked. The others seemed engrossed in a conversation about something that had happened to them before they arrived here. I caught the name of Orzammar a few times. The conversation seemed to flip between a woman who won a "proving," whatever that was, and disappeared, and a reference to a prince. Duncan seemed annoyed by both incidents. "A waste of talent," he said. I didn't want to eavesdrop, but it was interesting. I'd never been, well, anywhere. The idea that I might be joining them on trips to Orzammar or… Highever, as they were now discussing was exciting.

"The knight will join us after the battle," Duncan was saying. "Since the Teyrn was leaving his youngest in charge he wanted him to stay and help watch over the castle while the rest of their men were in Ostagar."

"Didn't you want to get her," Kit asked.

"I had hoped, but… no, Teyrn Cousland made it very clear his daughter wouldn't be joining us. If she comes to us on her own I certainly won't turn her away at the door but I'm not about to invoke the Rite of Conscription. One recruit isn't worth angering the most powerful noble in Ferelden after the King."

"Shame," Colin said. Duncan made a noise of agreement. Eventually we came to a fork in the road and the three men split off, waving to both of us and promising to give Duncan's regards to someone called Alistair.

Duncan didn't say much as we walked. I tried asking him about the Grey Wardens, hoping to fill in the gaps in my knowledge from books, but he kept telling me I would find out more 'in time.'

"Here is good," he finally said. We'd been walking for hours and it was almost dark. My feet were aching. My back was aching. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed. Which was, apparently, the rolled up blankets strapped to my back. For some reason even my _face_ hurt.

I stood around feeling useless while he set the tent up and gathered firewood. "May I?" I said, watching him trying to start a fire. He stepped back and gestured for me to go ahead. I raised my hand and ignited the pile of wood. It was a steady blaze in seconds.

"Ah, it is useful to have a mage around," he said, smiling. "That would have taken me much longer." I watched him throwing items into a pot on the fire, stopping to explain to me what they were. I'd have to learn to cook, I guess. Certainly wouldn't be hiring a tranquil to follow me everywhere and prepare all my meals. Telling me to stir the food and shout if anything happened, he disappeared behind some bushes.

Duncan returned to camp, hair wet, and directed me to a stream where I could clean up and wash my clothes. There had been a towel and bar of soap in the items he gave me, so I grabbed both and hiked over. I glanced around once I reached the shore. No one seemed to be there, so I yanked my robes off and dropped my underclothes to the ground before wading into the water. "Sweet Maker's ass," I shrieked, realizing how cold the water was. I could hear Duncan back at camp laughing.

Since it looked like the water wasn't moving much I raised my hand, directing fire towards it. Wading in I found it, well, still cold. But it no longer agonizingly such, and I was able to quickly wash up. That done, I wrapped up in the towel and washed my smallclothes before holding a hand up to them, steam hissing as the water evaporated. Unfortunately my robes, being wool, had to stay dirty. If I tried to dry them with magic they'd just shrink. I figured that out after an incident with an ice spell left me drenched and annoyed in the middle of a practice room. I also didn't want to sleep in soggy wet robes, though, so they would stay filthy. I changed back into them, still covered in splatters of Jowan's blood, and returned to camp. Sitting down, I summoned just enough heat into my hands to dry my hair, and then did the same to the towel.

"Did the Circle teach you that?" Duncan asked said, watching me shake my hair out.

"What?"

"Your hair," he said. "Using magic to dry it. It doesn't seem like something they would bother with."

I shrugged. "Basically a fire spell, but without the flames. Just heat. Necessity taught me. I can't even tell you how many times I've ended up covered in ice after a class, and ice always melts." In all honesty it was an absurdly difficult balance to maintain, and I'd managed to burn myself more than once in the past trying it. I would have gone without washing my hair if I could, but it was _crunchy_ in parts from the blood in it so that wasn't an option. It was also entirely too cold outside to leave it wet. I was just thrilled I hadn't managed to set my only underwear or my hair on fire accidentally.

After we ate Duncan sat down next to me. "It occurred to me…" he said, very quietly and looking slightly embarrassed. "Do you know _how_ to wash clothes?"

"Oh yes," I assured him. "I read a novel once, it had a part in it where the character washed a dress. Seemed simple enough."

He glanced at my robes, clearly embarrassed to be having this conversation. "Well, I asked because, um…"

"I'm still covered in my best friend's blood?" He nodded. "These are wool. I can't use magic to dry them, they'll shrink."

"We usually hang our wet items up overnight," he said.

I blushed. "I, um… this is all I have." We hadn't stayed in the tower long enough for me to even pack my few possessions. "We left before I could get my things. That money I have… do you think that's enough for me to buy another set of robes? If we see some for sale somewhere? And maybe a nightdress?" I bit my lip. I didn't even know if they _sold_ robes anywhere. Maybe the circle was the only place to get them. Would I have to start wearing armor? It looked complicated. And expensive.

"Oh," he groaned, putting a hand to his face and turning an embarrassed red. "I didn't even realize. I'm so sorry, I should have made sure you didn't need anything before we left Kinloch Hold. I promise, the first town we come to tomorrow you'll get new robes, a nightdress, and anything else you need." I thanked him and he stood up, disappearing briefly. Duncan returned a moment later and handed me a folded white bit of cloth. "Here, I have a spare shirt. It should at least be long enough for you to sleep in until we can get you something else."

"Thank you," I said. "And, I probably should have said something," I said. "No need to apologize or anything." I was proving to be an enormous inconvenience for him already. I had no idea just how much annoyance he would deal with before I went back to the tower in favor of someone who could take care of themselves properly.

"You're not the first recruit to come to us with nothing but the clothes on their back," he said.

I shrugged, telling him not to worry about it, and went over to the tent he told me I could use. After a few moments I managed to figure out how to unbuckle the rolled up blankets from my pack and spread them out. Duncan's shirt was long enough to sleep in, but I'd have to make sure I got dressed before I stumbled out of the tent in the morning, unless I wanted to give him a good long look at my upper thighs. Not that I cared much, but it did seem strangely like showing up half-naked in front of a teacher.

I fell asleep almost instantly and if I dreamed I don't remember it.

When I woke I could smell something cooking, and coffee. I pulled my robes back on and folded everything up, reattaching it to the pack. I left the tent and saw Duncan sitting near the fire, turning over pieces of bacon. It was still dark, but I wasn't tired. I normally went to sleep fairly late, so going to bed so early the night before must have thrown me off.

He looked up, hearing me. "Bushes," he said, pointing. I figured out what he was talking about after a moment and nodded, walking over. Thankfully I recognized some of the plants from my herbalism classes so I didn't need to worry about giving myself an agonizing rash in any particularly delicate areas. That done, I passed by the stream on my way back, washing my face and rinsing my mouth out.

"Thanks," I said, joining him by the fire as he passed me a tin mug of coffee. It was strong, but surprisingly good.

I tried asking him questions about the Grey Wardens, hoping he would be more forthcoming than yesterday. Every answer seemed to be "you'll see soon enough."

"They say you used to ride griffons," I mentioned, hoping he might at least let me know if they secretly had some stashed away.

"Well, not me _personally_," Duncan replied, smiling. "I'm nowhere near _that_ old. They've been extinct for centuries." I must have looked crushed. "And no, we don't have any secreted away at Weisshaupt."

"Oh," I said, feeling stupid for hoping.

"You're not even the first recruit _this year_ to hope we did, though. Our most recent member asked me the same thing after he joined us." Well, that did make me feel a little better. "He said 'well, if dragons came back maybe they will, too,' when I broke the news to him." That was a fantastic point! People said dragons were extinct for ages, and now, dragons everywhere! Well, not _everywhere, _but they're definitely very much alive. Maybe griffons were just hiding out somewhere waiting for the right moment. I decided I would hope the same thing.

I wandered around the campsite, mug in hand, looking at things. There was elfroot growing on the edge of the clearing, I picked it and shoved it into my pack. When it was lighter I could at least be useful and make some health poultices. I couldn't resist grabbing a handful of grass from the ground and sniffing it. It smelled like… amazing. Fresh and green, almost like what sunshine felt like. Unable to help myself, I stretched out on the ground and buried my face in it, making a noise of contentment.

"Enjoying life outside the tower so far?" Duncan asked me, sounding amused. I rolled over and sat up, brushing dirt off my nose.

"Very much," I admitted. "It's… really amazing, actually. Everything's so beautiful. It looks so different up close, and everything has a smell. Even grass! I don't know why people don't talk about that, grass smells amazing!" I held the flat green blades up in demonstration and Duncan gave me an amused expression.

"That is perhaps the first time I've heard someone talk about the smells of Ferelden and not mention dogs."

"Oh, no, I can smell them, too," I said. "It seemed rude to mention it, though. I mean, _everyone_ knows Ferelden smells like dogs, even me. Even the tower smells like dogs from the kennels in the lower levels where the tranquil breed them."

After breakfast, where he again ate three times as much as me, we set out again. We were ambushed by bandits when within sight of a small city, or perhaps it was a large town. I misdirected all of them and began to freeze them, one by one. Duncan fought with a sword and dagger, moving so fast I could barely see him. I was grateful for his unusual armor, though. It wouldn't do for me to attack the wrong target.

"Maggie, left flank," Duncan shouted. I looked to my left, not seeing anything. "Left and _behind_," Duncan yelled, more forcefully. I spun to see an archer taking aim at me, quickly froze him and sent a boulder flying towards him. He shattered and I shook the bits out of my hair.

"Flank is next to and behind," he said, walking over.

"That is… very good to know," I said, glancing down at what had once been a bandit but was now small chunks of gore.

We had lunch in the small city which, apparently, was Rainesfere. I was used to seeing him devour three times as much as me at this point so I stopped wondering if we'd be missing meals. Once that was over Duncan took me to a small store. I shuddered realizing the man running it was a tranquil but managed to approach him. "I need robes," I said.

"What style?" he asked me.

"Um… women's?" I replied, not sure of the answer.

"Ferelden, Tevinter, or Chasind?" I looked at him blankly and he set three robes down on the counter. Tevinter was, apparently, where mages wore gold and fur. I couldn't say I was surprised by that. They were the only mages in Thedas who had a reason to be proud of what they were, after all, and if these robes did anything they all but _screamed_ 'hey, important mage coming through!' Apparently Chasind mages wore… very, very little. An interesting idea, but it just looked cold.

"Those," I said, pointing to the middle. "Um, how much?" He told me. It was more than twice what I had. I asked the price of the Ferelden style robes, which were bright red. They were the same price. I winced and asked about the third. They were more. A lot more. "That makes no sense," I said. "There's nothing to them, how can they cost more?"

Duncan, who had been examining several enchanged weapons, walked over. "Can you send the bill to the Grey Wardens in Denerim?" he asked the tranquil.

"Care of the palace, yes?" Duncan nodded and the tranquil agreed.

"Get her a set of whichever she wants," he said before looking down. "But not those," Duncan added, pointing at the skimpy robes. I was just fine with that, I'd probably freeze to death in them anyways. "I assume there are… personal items you'll need as well." I nodded and he just told me not worry and get what I needed before returning to the weapon display. I changed into the new robes in the store's small back room and tied my hair out of my face with a new leather cord. I walked out with new underclothes, new boots, a hairbrush, a toothbrush, and my dirty old robes folded in my pack. My old boots, which were deemed 'completely unacceptable' went in the garbage. Probably just as well since I'd already managed to wear a hole into one of them since leaving the tower.

"And I was starting to get used to wandering around crusted with blood," I said, leaving the store. "Glad I got a hairbrush, though. I've apparently had a chunk of bandit in my hair for a couple hours. Gross."

Duncan chucked at that. "It isn't my place to tell you what to wear," he said a moment later, clearly in reference to the forbidden skimpy robes. "We do have standard-issue robes and armor, but I don't require it of anyone. But… there are many men at the camp in Ostagar who have been there for weeks or longer, and very few women. You've been fairly sheltered until now so trust me when I say wearing something like that around an army camp wouldn't be… wise." That hadn't occurred to me, but it made perfect sense. I suspect it still wouldn't have occurred to me if I'd been living outside the tower for the last few years, though.

"Isolated," I said. "Not sheltered. That makes perfect sense, I should have realized it myself. Believe me, we don't all live like Chantry sisters in the tower." Far from it, in fact.

"Ah, yes… I'm more than familiar enough with the tower to realize that," Duncan said, clearing his throat. I vaguely wondered just what he had heard. He seemed far more uncomfortable with the subject than necessary.

"So… the First Enchanter said I would be a good Grey Warden?" I asked as we walked.

"No," he said. "In fact, he brought out your disciplinary records out to scare me away from recruiting you." I gasped, faintly horrified. I suspected he needed an entire shelf _just_ for the entries relating to things Jowan and I had done. Not to mention… everything else. "I suspect he just wanted to keep you for the Circle, not that he actually thought you were poorly suited. He said you were needed since they have so few mages focusing on Primal to teach the next generation and then tried to convince me to take a healer named Bridget instead. I don't need another healer, though. I need combat mages and he did admit you were the best among everyone your age." We stopped at several stands where Duncan was told over and over that the men traveling south had bought up all the tents. We were now passing beyond the town limits, I tried to keep up with Duncan's longer strides. "I had _hoped_ to convince Irving and Greagoir to send more mages to Ostagar, and include you among them. I knew leaving the tower with a conscript would anger the templars enough that they would refuse to allow more aid in the battle so I just planned to invite you to join us there."

"Oh," I said. "Sorry. I guess I screwed up all your plans." Fantastic. Because of me the templars didn't send enough mages and watch, now the darkspawn will overrun the nation and we'll all die. That's quite a legacy I'll be leaving. I'd actually managed to _top_ setting a maleficar free upon the land, and it took me less than twenty four hours. Maybe tomorrow I could find a way to betray the nation to Orlais and really round out my failure.

Duncan sighed. "Not really," he said. "I think Irving knew what I had in mind. Once I met you in his office I'm sure he realized how obvious it was you would simply ask to join the Wardens if given the chance. After that he became very adamant about you being too young and too fresh from your apprenticeship to go to Ostagar." I suppose I didn't make much secret of it, despite my attempts at looking normal. "The need for Grey Wardens is greater than the need for mages to fight a single battle. Although I would have preferred for our exit to be far less dramatic, I wasn't going to leave that tower unless I knew you would be among our ranks one way or another." I actually sighed with relief there. I'd half-suspected he just felt bad for me and took me so I wouldn't end up executed. "I've had far too many potential recruits slip past me as of late, it's very frustrating. People refuse to acknowledge the true danger darkspawn pose." He noticed my difficulty keeping up with him and slowed down, smiling at me. "Make no mistake, although I was able to save you from whatever punishment the templars would have come up with, that's not the reason you're here. The Grey Wardens will take anyone, regardless of what crimes they may have committed, but only if they're capable of joining our fight. We don't recruit out of pity." I'd heard rumors the Grey Wardens often took criminals but thought they were an exaggeration at best. It didn't really match with the rest of their reputation. But, if that was true, maybe the other Wardens wouldn't look down on me if they found out how I joined.

Now I just had to wonder why he continued to avoid answering every other question I asked.

* * *

_Long chapter is long!_

_So here's my thoughts on the mage origin and Ostagar. From dialogue in Redcliffe we know Jowan was captured and taken to Denerim, and that's where he met Loghain. He then went to Redcliffe and by the time the battle's over and you reach Lothering the Arl has already been poisoned and knights sent to look for the ashes. So it seems like it can't be a straight run from the tower to Ostagar and then bam! right into battle, since that just wouldn't be enough time for Jowan to cross the country basically twice, even if it was almost all on horseback after his capture, and for Isolde to be desperate enough to start hunting for magical cures. _

_Hence the crosscountry trip, and what will probably be a longer than usual stay at ostagar. Since I had them hitting the tower after Orzammar and Highever the three other Wardens are the ones you see in the palace and later the Deep Roads if you do the dwarven noble origin._

_Also, Duncan is far far too awesome to just kill off after two scenes.  
_


	6. Did I say crazed bloodthirsty killer?

I'd given up on asking Duncan for any details on the Grey Wardens. It seemed the books I'd read had already provided me with everything I was evidently allowed to know, and several days of questioning him incessantly didn't yield any new information beyond all the ways he could rephrase 'you'll find out later.' I would have to wait until this mysterious 'joining' was over, apparently. He'd mentioned that once, and immediately clammed up, saying I'd learn more when we reached Ostagar.

I really hoped I wouldn't have to fight someone or something strange like that. I was horrible at mage duels since most of my magic was fairly deadly from the get-go. I didn't want to accidentally kill someone. Oh Maker, what if we _had_ to fight to the death, and the winner got to stay? That was… insane. Believable, but insane.

So, since he wouldn't tell me about the Wardens, I decided to find out about him. "How did you become a Grey Warden?" I asked as we walked.

"As a general rule we don't ask each other about our pasts," he said.

"Oh," I replied. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. Forget I said anything, then." I set a _blood mage_ free, though. How much worse could it be? But I wasn't about to ask again or mention that, it seemed a bit too soon to start breaking Grey Warden rules.

"I'll tell you," he said. "If you want to know. It seems fair, since I know how you came to us. I warn you just so you don't ask anyone else once we reach Ostagar. When someone becomes a Grey Warden their old lives end. If people want to share that's one thing. But we make a point of not asking."

"Well, it couldn't be any worse than what I did," I said.

He chuckled. "Actually, it was. The Knight-Commander may not agree, but I think most people who aren't so biased against mages would. I killed a man in Val Royeaux, and the Commander of the Grey in Orlais conscripted me right off the gallows." I must have made a noise of surprise. I couldn't imagine this polite man who saved me from the templars being… a _killer_, of all things! "It was a _very_ long time ago," he went on. "Perhaps even before you were born. I was a thief. A… street-rat, as they say now. One of my marks returned to his room at the hotel before I had left and we fought. I won, although I hadn't intended to kill him. The chevaliers were called and off to jail I went. It turned out my victim had been a Grey Warden." That explanation made far more sense. He seemed as proper as could be when I met him, I might have even guessed him to be of noble blood initially. Several of the templars were youngest sons of minor nobles, and you could always pick them out of a crowd just by how they stood and walked. But, the longer I traveled with Duncan the more I caught the subtle sarcasm hiding just below the surface, and a heavily veiled contempt he occasionally directed towards anything representing tradition or propriety. Yes, I could definitely see a rebellious kid hiding inside, trying to play respectable for the rest of the world.

"So… since you were able to best one of his men the Commander decided to conscript you?" I said, filling in the pieces.

He paused, looking surprised. "Yes, exactly," Duncan said after a moment. "Although the commander was a _she_, not a _he_. We don't make distinctions between men and women. Gender and race mean nothing to us."

"That's good," I said. "I knew about race, but gender too, that's nice to know." I thought about what he said for a moment. "It… makes sense. I mean, if the Grey Wardens are all supposed to be the very best, and someone is able to beat one of them, well, that would mean they're just as good or better. So you'd want that person on your side, right?" He nodded, still looking surprised. "And it was a robbery gone bad, it isn't as though you were some crazed bloodthirsty killer stalking the streets or anything. So it's not like you would have been a danger to everyone else or anything." I stopped talking, realizing I really should shut up now. Actually, I should have shut up several sentences ago. Did I just say _crazed bloodthirsty killer_? "It must have been difficult, though… serving with his friends after," I added, hoping to dig myself from the hole I made.

"At first," Duncan admitted. "Commander Genevieve was always very careful to treat me like everyone else, though, and eventually they began to follow suit. I had many friends among the Wardens of Orlais by the time I left. When King Maric welcomed us back to Ferelden I was among the first transferred here because I was born in Highever. It was thought that having at least some Ferelden-born Wardens would make people trust us more. Weisshaupt named me Commander not long after. I suspect it was since His Majesty and I were already… friends, of a sort."

"That has to come in handy, being friends with a king," I said. I couldn't even imagine having the nerve to _talk_ to a king. "What was he like?"

"Funny," Duncan said. "He was a very funny man, and incredibly kind. He used humor to hide how sad he was, though. I knew him after Queen Rowan had passed, he mourned her greatly. He also gave up much for the good of Ferelden. Duty and personal desires don't often mix." It was strange hearing about someone like King Maric in such… normal terms. Thinking of him as anything but the smiling kind-faced man in portraits or the grinning young rogue with windswept hair from old drawings was difficult.

I thought about that while we walked. Eventually we stopped to make lunch, I helped collect firewood and set the fire. "Is this really a blight?" I asked as we ate.

"Yes," Duncan responded without a pause.

"Oh," I said. "I was… kind of hoping you'd say 'maybe' or 'probably not, but best to be safe.' Something like that."

"I wish I could," Duncan said. "But I assure you, it is most _definitely_ a blight. When you're one of us you'll understand."

"No, I don't doubt you," I said. "I just… you know, hoped it _wasn't."_ I sighed. From what I'd read, the shortest blight still lasted more than a decade. This wouldn't be one battle, it would be the first battle, and that would probably occupy the rest of my looking briefer by the minute life. "Still beats the tower, though," I finally said after considering it. "I can actually do some good now. A lot more useful to fry a bunch of monsters than sit in a room and tell apprentices that fireball spells could be used to clear fields for farmers."

"Farmers?" Duncan looked surprised. "I didn't realize they used mages for that."

"Oh, they don't," I said. "And I suspect any mage who asked, or any farmer, would be laughed out the window. But they make us learn it since, you know, it's possible. In theory. And my suggestion of a practical use for the spell was deemed too violent."

"What was your suggestion?" he asked, looking amused.

"Killing things with fire, of course. It's the _only_ use any of us would actually be able to take advantage of, after all." He actually chuckled at that. "Fire's good for that since even if whatever it is keeps moving they're constantly taking damage unless they stop to put out the flames. And if they do that, well, boom! Lightning! Or a big old rock on their head. Something nice and dramatic and final. Ice is better, though. Ice just stops them in their tracks, and you can freeze a bunch of things at once. Then all you need is someone with a big sword or a shield to go around and smash them."

"You've put a lot of thought into this," Duncan said.

I shrugged. "That's mostly the tactics of Willhelm. He was the mage that fought with Maric's rebellion. I never expected them to let me out, but I figured if I ever was it would be to fight, so I should be ready. So I read a lot. Plus, reading about fighting is way more interesting than the rest of the books in the tower. I mean, botany? Really? Ugh."

"Our compound has a small library," Duncan said. "Nothing like what you're accustomed to, but you may find some of it interesting. Several of the books have never been released to anyone outside the order." Well, if there was one thing better than interesting books, it was interesting _forbidden_ books. I loved a good secret. Maybe I could borrow one or two when we went to Denerim. It would be nice to have something to read by the fire at night. Oooh, maybe some had secret Grey Warden magic in them! Assuming I wasn't, of course, killed immediately by some darkspawn. That seemed likely. I reminded myself once more than I was dead either way, though. If Duncan hadn't taken me I'd either be a pile of ash in an unmarked grave at the tower or on my way to Aeonar by now.

That night I insisted on sleeping outside, giving Duncan his tent back. He seemed to be constantly freezing and I felt bad about it. I was used to being covered in ice, though, so it took a lot more cold than the current fall weather to really bother me. Plus, I wanted to see what it would be like to sleep right under the stars. Sleeping under the stars turned out to be _fantastic_. I was up later than I'd been since leaving the tower, just staring at the sky. Duncan seemed nervous about leaving me out of doors, saying that he would _know_ if darkspawn came near us, but bandits could still take me by surprise. I warded the campsite, though, which seemed to satisfy him.

Since I was outside the first traces of light managed to wake me. My legs were still sore in the mornings, although the pain was either less every day, or I was getting used to it. Up before him, I decided I would prove my usefulness by starting the fire and making coffee. Cooking was still a bit beyond my skills, but how hard could coffee be?

Not finding much by way of firewood I hit a dead-looking tree with lightning, sending it crashing to the ground in dozens of charred pieces. I dragged several over and lit the fire before digging through the food supplies, finding the coffee pot and coffee. It looked like Duncan had packed other items inside the pot, probably to save space, so I put them back. I brought that and a mug to the stream nearby. Each pot made about four cups, so I added that much water. Filling it the rest of the way with coffee I put it on the fire and waited for something to happen.

"Do I smell coffee?" Duncan said, leaving his tent.

"Yep!" I replied proudly, pouring him a mug. It looked… well, not right. "Hm… I think I did this wrong," I said, glancing at the thick slop.

"I'm sure it's fine," he replied, accepting the mug and taking a sip. Although he covered it quickly, his initial reaction made it very clear the coffee was, in fact, not fine. "Did you… remember the basket?" he asked after a moment.

"Basket?"

"It should have already been inside the pot," Duncan said. "You pour the coffee in the basket, and then fill the pot with water."

"Oh," I said. "I thought that was just for something else and… in there to save space." I suppose that explained why it was closer to a soup than a beverage. Apparently coffee was harder than I thought.

"We can have tea," he said in a reassuring tone, retreating to the stream and putting a pot of plain water on. "Impressive for a first try, though," Duncan told me, brushing aside my apologies. Considering all this was said between his subtle attempts to get coffee grounds out of his teeth and I'd apparently put him off the very idea of coffee for the day I didn't think I'd done that impressive a job. I was amazed at the attempts at politeness this early in the morning, though.

I actually helped Duncan take down the tent, finding it far less complex than I believed initially. "What are the rules we have to follow?" I asked after we set out, hoping a new tactic for questioning could provide me with more information.

"What do you mean?"

"Well… you said we don't ask each other about our past. What else? Are we allowed to drink? Is there a secret handshake you can confirm exists but not show me yet? Some odd rule about haircuts? Do we actually focus on killing darkspawn? Or is it on helping people? Do we have to go to Chantry every Saturday?" I paused, trying to think of what else there could be. "Oh Maker, there's not a vow of celibacy, is there?"

He laughed. "No, there isn't."

"Fan-_tastic_," I said, perhaps too quickly. He sighed. I was getting very used to that noise. It wasn't unlike Irving's sigh, come to think of it. "So… any rules about, um, what do they call it… fraternization?" I asked, grinning. Hey, he _was_ pretty cute for being so much older than me.

Duncan sighed again and put his hand to his face for a moment before answering. "Not as such. Technically everyone is equal. The only person who will outrank you is me, and since I'm old enough to be your _father_, I don't think that would be a concern."

"You're not _that _old," I said. Sure, it was a blatant hint, but hey, why not.

"_Yes, I am_," he replied, shooting me a pointed look. Well, worth a try.

I suppose that answered that. Oh well, I'd just wonder if I didn't at least try. And it wasn't as though I was _that_ obvious. Plus, any other Wardens I met were fair game. Hey, the dark haired guy from Kinloch Hold was fair game! That was something to look forward to. "Good to know," I said, making sure to keep my voice cheerful so he didn't think I was crushed or offended. "And the rest of it?"

"Yes, you can drink. Although doing so before battle is not recommended."

"Well, _obviously_," I said. I wasn't stupid, after all.

"No secret handshake. No required Chantry attendance. No… haircut rules." He paused. "Hair? Where would you even get that? I thought I knew every strange rumor about the Grey Wardens."

I shrugged. "I once read about a group of warriors in Nevarra who never cut their hair. They think it somehow diminishes their strength. Insane, but I'm just making sure. My hair grows fast, I'd be dragging it behind me in the dirt in like five years if I couldn't chop some off on occasion. And, well, someone can grab you by your hair. In a fight." I shuddered at the memory.

He put his hand up to his ponytail. "I actually have the same problem. I wouldn't recommend letting your hair get much longer than it is now for just that reason."

"Didn't plan on it," I said. "As soon as I can get a knife or scissors I'll probably cut it shorter anyways."

"I have scissors. You can use them when we make camp." I nodded, pleased. "And what was it about darkspawn?"

I paused. "Well, we're supposed to protect people from them, right?" he nodded. "So, what if there's a situation where we can either save a person, or kill the darkspawn? Spells aren't as exact as normal weapons, they usually target an area so if a person and darkspawn are in the same area..." I shrugged. "I should know so I don't do the wrong thing."

He was quiet, apparently considering that. "What do _you_ think?"

I ran over several plausible situations in my mind. "Well, I want to say help the person, but that feels… not right. Since its _one_ person, but if the darkspawn get away they can go on to kill many more, all because you saved just one." I made a face. "It sounds awful, but I'd say it's better to let one person die and stop them from going on to attack more. Or infect. They do that, right? Spread disease?"

"_Incurable_ disease," Duncan confirmed. "Not even magic will heal it. It begins with grey patches on the skin, and ends with madness. The victims become slaves to the darkspawn until they eventually die, and have the potential to spread disease further until then."

"Seems like killing them would be kinder," I said.

"It is," he replied quickly. "Although most refuse to see it that way."

I shrugged. "Who would want to live like that? They're dead already if you think about it. Like tranquil. If that's what they pick, whatever, their choice. Jowan and I had made pact years ago that we'd kill the other if they forced that on us, though. Or like being an abomination, since something else is controlling your mind and body. At least the tranquil have some degree of free will. I mean, you won't talk one into cutting his own arm off or anything."

"The comparison to an abomination is apt," Duncan agreed. "And when we say we protect people from darkspawn we mean _all_ people. Not on an individual basis, but across the world. Sometimes we have to make unpleasant choices, but it serves the greater good."

"Raze the village to save the arling, then," I said. He nodded. Duncan spent the rest of the day posing scenarios to me and asking what I would do. It was something to do, at least, since he was still as tightlipped as ever about the Warden secrets. That night I built the fire by myself while he set up his tent, and the next morning I made coffee that, while I wouldn't call it_ good_, was actually safe for consumption.

I saw a city in the distance by midafternoon. The subject of the day had apparently been death, as cheerful as that was. Duncan cautioned me that Grey Wardens had dangerous lives and could die at any time. "So can mages," I reminded him.

"Not quite the same thing," he said.

"No," I agreed. "If a Grey Warden dies their death at least has a _meaning_. Mages, though…" I shrugged. "I'd say half of my friends didn't survive the Harrowing. Others died in escape attempts. Those are meaningless. I had to spend years worried every time I refused a templar's advances. They could always turn around and claim they saw me practicing forbidden magic in retaliation. It's happened, more than once, and a templar's word is always taken over a mage's." I kicked a stone on the road, annoyed by the shift in conversation, but went on anyways. "I was dead anyways. The _best_ I could have hoped for was solitary confinement in the tower. That's… really unlikely, and would have been months or years of every templar I did turn down doing whatever they wanted to me. I'd kill myself first. Aeonar would kill me, and quickly. Or they would have just sentenced me to death, same as Jowan. If I do die now it'll at least be worth something."

"I can't help but wonder if the Chantry is aware of what life is actually like in the Circle of Magi. I had a good friend who came to the Wardens from the Orlais Circle, her stories were similar. It clearly isn't limited to Ferelden."

"Of course they do," I said. "The templars _are_ the Chantry. So are the priests, and they're both in the tower with us. I'm sure they just think we deserve to suffer for being mages. Like any of us had a choice in the matter." The city in the distance seemed to get bigger, but not closer. It must have been enormous. "What's that?"

"That is Denerim," he replied. "Unfortunately we won't be staying long. I need to visit someone, as soon as that's done we head south."

We reached the city early the following morning. I stared, jaw hanging open like a fool. Even before we made it to the gates I could pick out a huge tower, I knew it to be Fort Drakon. The head of the usurper was displayed there after he had been killed by King Maric. The building near it must have been the royal palace. The walls were dotted with red banners, displaying three gold dogs on each, the symbol of the line of Calenhad. I drew in a breath. "Wow. It's… _big_."

"It is," Duncan agreed.

I kept stopping, staring up at buildings and around at the people, as we passed through the city. It was less crowded than I expected. I didn't know if that was due to the early hour, the war in the south, or simply because my expectations were off. Duncan still had to switch to walking behind me so he could gently shove me forward whenever I got too distracted. I followed him into a building and he told me to sit at a table. It looked to be a tavern, but it was mostly deserted. He returned a moment later, setting a glass of ale and a note down in front of me. "I'll need you to wait here, I have business in the Alienage. One human going there attracts enough attention, almost all of the sort I'd rather avoid. It wouldn't do for there to be two of us. If anyone bothers you show them the note. I shouldn't be long."

"I can't wait in the compound?" I asked, remembering he said the Grey Wardens lived in Denerim. I'd hoped I could root through the bookshelves while we were here.

"Not yet," he said. "Something tells me that any books I point out as off limits will be the very first ones you grab once I'm gone." I couldn't help but grin at that. He was completely right.

He left and I grabbed an abandoned book from a neighboring table, sipping my ale. The note was brief and to the point, it certainly wouldn't keep me entertained. _The bearer of this letter, one Margaret Amell, human female mage of approximately two and twenty years, with black hair and green eyes, is a conscript of the Grey Wardens enlisted under Warden Commander Duncan. She is outside the jurisdiction of the Chantry and templars and not to be harmed or harassed, in accordance with the agreement set forth in the Treaty of Silent Plains. _There was a wax seal at the bottom, stamped with the image of two rearing griffons, back to back, and a scrawled signature that might have vaguely been identifiable as Duncan's name to someone who already knew what it said. I suppose the seal is what made it official.

The book turned out to be a romance about a married woman carrying on an affair with a chevalier. It was fairly dirty and I wondered if anyone would complain should I just… slip it in my pack when I left. I suppose that was more likely to be found abandoned in a tavern than a copy of the Chant of Light, though. I tried to stretch the ale out, but my glass was growing emptier and it seemed Duncan was taking longer than he expected.

As it grew later people began to filter in. I was at a small table, fortunately, so no one tried to sit with me. Most saw me and gave a wide berth, to be completely honest. A few even left immediately after looking at me. With a sigh, I continued reading, trying to shrink down into the booth so no one would notice me. I'm sure the bartender didn't appreciate some mage nursing a pint of ale and scaring away his customers. Two templars walked in, quickly looking around. I winced. Obviously someone who left had told them a mage was sitting in here.

They walked over to me, as I expected. I handed them the note before either could speak. "This says you have to leave me alone," I told them. They stared at it, passing it back and forth in silence. "Do you need me to _read it_ to you?"

"I've never heard of the Treaty of Silent Plains," one finally said.

I sighed. Clearly templars education didn't include much history. "It was sighed after the defeat of the archdemon in the first blight."

"No," one said.

"No?" I replied, staring up at him through the slit in his helmet. "Sorry, believe it or not, that's true. Not my fault you don't know history. Bugger off." I had to admit, I was enjoying this untouchable by the Chantry status.

"And where is this… _Warden Commander Duncan_?" the second asked.

"In the Alienage, looking for a recruit," I replied. "Go find him yourself if you want. He asked me to wait here, so I wait here. He's the boss."

The first snorted. "Why would the Grey Wardens recruit some knife-ear?"

I gasped, hearing him say something like that so… loudly. I'd heard the term whispered, of course, but never said quite so brazenly. He didn't even care who heard him! "What are you, slow _and_ racist?" I snapped. "The fourth blight was ended when an elf killed the archdemon. Grey Wardens don't care about race. _Everybody _knows that. Maker's breath, would it kill you to pick up a book once in a while?" _Really_ enjoying this untouchable status.

"This seems… funny," one said to two, speaking over my head. "I'll go look for this _Duncan_ person. You keep an eye on the mage."

I rolled my eyes and sipped my ale, determined to ignore the glowering templar and pay attention to the book. At one point he started looking at it over my shoulder, quickly coughing when he saw the explicit scene I was currently reading. It became much harder to ignore him when I realized he was no longer staring at the book and had switched to staring at my breasts. Really, did he think I couldn't tell? Those helmets had such a narrow view it didn't leave much for debate as to where his gaze was focused.

"Go get me a drink," I said. "It's the red ale."

"What?" he replied, clearly shocked.

"I _said_ go get me a drink," I repeated. "Since you've spent the last half hour staring at my chest, which is really quite brutish and very rude on your part, I think that would be the least you can do by way of apology." He stuttered something and I waved my hand. "What, I'm blind now? You think I can't tell? Even if that helmet didn't make it _very_ obvious- which it does, well, women _always_ know. _Always_. So, go get me a drink." He sighed and walked over to the bar. I glanced back, he was walking _backwards, _apparently just so I wouldn't run out the door once his sight was diverted. With a sigh he returned, handing me the ale.

The tavern door slammed open just as he was setting down the pint. "You're buying the mage drinks now!_?_" templar one said, horrified. Two began to sputter. "What is _wrong_ with you?"

Two wasn't able to answer since Duncan was right behind templar one, looking… well, furious. "I trust you're both finished violating a millennium-old treaty and harassing my recruit?" he snapped at them.

"It's all legitimate," templar one said. "I guess they're supposed to have an amulet we should check, or a letter with the seal when they're still a recruit. Like the one she had." They both left, tossing my note back, grumbling all the while and most definitely not apologizing. I made a face at their retreating backs.

"Jerks," I muttered.

"Indeed," Duncan agreed. "He told me the most 'rude and ill-tempered mage he had ever met' was sitting in here claiming to be a Grey Warden recruit. How _did_ you go from that to his fellow buying you drinks?"

"Just the one," I said. "And I told him it would be a good way to apologize for staring at my chest for half an hour. Like I couldn't tell, the filthy bastard." I then realized Duncan was alone. "No new person yet?"

"He's dead," came the reply.

"Oh." I had no idea how to respond to that. "I'm sorry."

"As am I," Duncan replied. "But there was nothing I could have done. It happened a few days ago." He sat across from me, looking extremely frustrated.

"Here," I said, sliding the ale over. "You look like you could use this more than me." He nodded at me and lifted the glass, emptying it quickly.

"We should begin traveling south," Duncan said, standing up. "I was at least able to stop at the compound and get you a tent, so that's one less worry." He helped me attach it to my pack and we set out once more, leaving Denerim before I could even see more than a couple streets and a single tavern.

* * *

_Thanks so much to everyone who reads and reviews! I think I'll have one more update on this before I update my other story... the next chapter contains a scene more than one person asked me to include after Maggie mentioned it in passing._


	7. I only feel kind of bad, not really bad

Traveling south, I couldn't help but feel bad for Duncan. He was quite obviously very bothered by whatever happened in Denerim, and it seemed to be more than a general annoyance over missing out on a recruit. I wondered if it was a friend of his who had died. That seemed to fit his reaction and attitude. I already knew he had similar luck in Orzammar and Highever, on top of that. It seems like, from his list of potential recruits, he'd only managed to come away with one. I couldn't help but think it was more bad luck on his part that I was the apparent winner.

Towns became further apart the deeper into the Hinterlands we went. At one point he left me alone in camp for a day, saying he had to investigate something. I held onto my note, hoped no wandering templars passed by, and read the book I stole from the Denerim tavern. I missed Jowan. I wondered if he was sitting at a campsite somewhere, by a fire of his own. Part of me wanted to be mad at him, but really I just wished I knew if he was all right. I even missed Brennan. Or at least fooling around with him. Maybe I needed to find a less… exciting book.

It was dark already. I hoped Duncan would return soon. I was starting to get jumpy.

A snapping sound behind me got my attention. It sounded like someone breaking a branch in half, and it was louder than the other noises I'd been scared by so far. I turned to look and saw a man stepping beyond the bushes. He caught sight of me sitting alone by the fire and started laughing. "Someone leave you all by yourself, girl?" the man asked, walking towards me. "I'll keep you company." I didn't know if he was a thief or bandit, but it seemed clear he had nothing good in mind. The smell of strong liquor came from his direction.

I grabbed my staff and jumped to my feet. "Stay back," I ordered him. "I will kill you!"

"What, you'll hit me with a branch?" he said. Maker's breath, he was either dumber than dirt or so drunk it was a wonder he could even walk. Did the robes not give me away? But, in either case, he continued to walk towards me. I summoned a blast of energy, knocking him to the ground and pushing him away from me.

"I said _stay back_," I shouted.

"What the?" he muttered. "Damn, you're a sodding witch," he climbed to his feet and pulled out a dagger. "I'll get you for that!"

That was what I'd been waiting for. He was threatening but, until now, unarmed. Something about killing an unarmed man bothered me. Fortunately, that was no longer a concern.

I froze him before summoning lightning. Dead, his frozen body fell backwards.

I shifted further away from the corpse and built the fire up, putting water on for dinner. Holding my staff on my lap, I waited for Duncan to return and hoped it would be soon.

Duncan finally walked back into the campsite late that evening. I admit, I was nervous about going to sleep in the middle of nowhere by myself, especially after already meeting one of Ferelden's less friendly residents, and stayed up waiting, keeping the fire going and a shield already cast on myself just in case. He looked startled after seeing the body but calmed down when I assured him the man died before he even managed to lay a finger on me. I hadn't known what to do with it so I left it where he fell. "I'm _not_ defenseless," I said him. After all, if I was that helpless I wouldn't _be_ here. "I feel kind of bad. It wasn't a fair fight at all."

"He brought his end on himself," Duncan said, after pulling the body to the edge of the woods and leaving it there.

"I know," I said. "And if I let him go the next girl might have been defenseless. So there's that. I mean, I only feel _kind of_ bad. Not _really_ bad or anything. He deserved it."

Since the only thing I'd learned to cook with any degree of success so far was sweetened oat porridge I offered him a bowl of it when he sat down by the fire, clearly exhausted. "There's a dalish clan camped not far from here," he said as he ate. "Two of their hunters managed to stumble onto a tevinter artifact, tainted by the darkspawn. Maybe even dating to the days of the first blight. That's what I was able to sense. If it was that tainted… they may have been corrupted instantly if they touched it. I wasn't able to find any trace of either of them." He sighed. "But, I destroyed it so no one else will be harmed, at least."

"What happened to them?" I asked. He must be exhausted, this was far more information than I usually got. I wanted to ask what he meant by 'sense' but I was afraid pressing for details would end the unusual stream of information I was getting.

"The darkspawn do take prisoners," he said grimly. I decided I would be much happier not knowing what they did with them. "Since their numbers were down by two, and they were preparing to move north to avoid the blight, they claimed the clan couldn't spare a single person as a recruit."

"What are the Dalish like?" I asked. I'd heard of them, of course, but knew very little. Most people didn't know much about them, they kept to themselves. From what I know they hated elves from the cities as much as they did humans. That was about the beginning and end of my knowledge of the dalish.

"Insular. They distrust most humans, and with good reason, but respect Grey Wardens. We don't have any among us now but we have in the past. They're the finest archers in Thedas." He paused, helping himself to more food. "You would probably find their magic interesting. They have their own mages and their own traditions, completely separate of the Chantry. They see magic as a sign someone is favored by their gods. When a child displays the ability the whole clan celebrates."

"Lucky," I said. "Can you leave me with them if I make a lousy Grey Warden instead of sending me back to the Circle?" I grinned, hoping he knew I was joking. Well, mostly.

"What?" he said, staring at me. "Where did that come from?"

"Well, you know, if you decide I don't work out…"

He shook his head. "You're _not_ going back to the Circle. Being a Grey Warden is forever. Have you been worried about that since we left?"

"Maybe?" I said, blushing.

"That is the _last_ thing you need to worry about," he said. I wondered what the first thing I needed to worry about was. "To be completely honest, I wouldn't send you back to the Circle if you begged at this point. You're extremely capable, you seem to have no problem with the more unpleasant decisions we face, and you're clearly willing to learn everything you can. We need you with us more than the Circle ever could. You've been conscripted, there's no going back on that."

"Thank the Maker," I sighed, falling backwards with relief. "I'm pretty sure they'll kill me if I ever set foot in there again."

"They can't," he said. "If you ever went back it would be as a Grey Warden. For all legal purposes it's like you become a new person when you join us. The slate's wiped clean." He paused. "Not to say we're exempt from laws _after_ joining. Far from it." He looked at me. "So if you decide to start dabbling in… less traditional magical schools I'd ask that you speak with me first _and_ exercise extreme caution. Although we allow any means necessary that won't stop a templar from cutting you down as a maleficar should you be discovered. Their oaths make no exception for Grey Warden mages in that regard." I nodded. I hadn't had plans to take up blood magic, but something about the way he said that made me think Duncan assumed it was a matter of _when_ and not _if. _I wondered if the other mage they had was a blood mage. Maybe he could give me advice. That Jowan had knocked so many men straight to the ground wasn't lost on me. If he could manage that what could I do to darkspawn with the same spells?

"I have to admit," I said. "It's… far more powerful than I expected. I know I'm a stronger mage than Jowan, and he caused some serious damage. I wonder if I could do more, even just using my own blood. I don't think I could ever deal with using… other people, though. That just seems wrong. If I can find a way to learn without having to bargain with a demon I'll let you know and you can decide if I should."

"That's all I ask," he said. "As I said, we allow any means necessary. I'd rather you not enter a bargain with any demons, either, though. That never ends well." That was an extreme understatement since it usually ended in possession and abomination, two things I was quite keen on avoiding since they ended in _death_. I wondered how Jowan had learned blood magic. He was too smart to bargain with a demon. Or, I thought he was, at least. A lot of what I thought wasn't exactly proving to be true these days.

We must have been getting close to Ostagar. I was seeing more people on the roads every day, most armored. I even saw a few on horseback. "We should be there tomorrow," Duncan told me. I nodded, too nervous about that prospect to respond. Getting there would mean… meeting all the other Grey Wardens and hoping they liked me, this mysterious joining he wouldn't talk about, finding out why he couldn't answer any of my questions, and, of course, the actual _battle_ which wasn't the least of it by far.

Duncan stopped us to speak to a man leading a group of armored people and dogs. He returned to me a moment later. "There's an inn not far ahead. We'll stay there tonight. Camping with this many people on the road isn't wise, we're likely to wake up and find everything but the clothes on our backs are gone." Once we arrived he arranged for two rooms and gave me a key. It had a number on it, I suppose so I could know which door it was. I went up to find it and set my pack down, putting my staff with it. It was a small room, I suppose, but I'd never actually slept in a room by myself. Not unless a tent counted. It would be strange not hearing dozens of other people snoring. And having a big bed all to myself sounded _amazing_. At least I would arrive in Ostagar well-rested. After a final look around I locked the door and returned downstairs.

People began pouring in as we ate dinner. I saw the men with the dogs, although the animals were apparently left outside if the barking was any indication. A small group in shiny metal armor came in not long after. Although the man leading the people with the dogs was close to Duncan's age, and one of the people in armor, who looked to be knights if the heraldry on their shields was any indication, was perhaps even older, most of them were about the same age as me. I tried not to stare, but… it wasn't easy.

"We haven't met many people your age since we left the Circle," Duncan observed. I nodded. We hadn't met _any _people my age since then, to be more specific. Most of them were drinking and laughing. A few glanced at me but no one said anything. I tried to smile at people but I'm sure the expression just came out… wrong. "Here," Duncan said, handing me a gold coin. "Bring it to the man at the bar and tell him to hold a tab open for you. He'll understand what you mean. When you want another drink he'll just take it out of this, and give you whatever is left at the end." He stood up. "Just remember we have a _lot_ of walking tomorrow. Enjoy yourself, but try not to overdo things."

I thanked him and he disappeared upstairs. Following his instructions, I handed over the coin and got a drink. "Please let me know before I run out," I asked. The bartender looked at me like I was insane.

"Sure thing, lass. You planning on buying drinks for everyone?"

"What? No!"

"Well, unless you're secretly a dwarven warrior you should be just fine," he laughed. I guess dwarven warriors drank a lot.

I sipped my ale and wondered if I should say hello to someone, or if someone would say hello to me. I eventually decided, near the end of my second drink, that people were nervous enough about mages without me walking up to them. Waiting for someone to talk to me first seemed better. I tried my best to look friendly and not dangerous hoping someone would do that.

I suppose it worked, since a man about my age with short red hair and intricate tattoos covering his face walked over to me eventually. "So, what are you?" he asked.

Huh? He didn't look _that_ drunk. He couldn't tell? "A mage," I replied, not sure how he didn't know.

He laughed. "Yeah, no kidding. The robes kinda give you away. I mean you don't have the buckethead guard so you can't be with the Circle. Are you a healer with one of the nobles or…?"

"Oh!" I said, understanding. "I'm a Grey Warden. Or, well, I will be soon." He looked impressed. "What are you?" I asked.

"I'm an Ash Warrior," he said. I must have looked confused so he explained. "We learned to fight like the dwarven berserkers, but, since this is Ferelden, our dogs fight at our sides."

"You have one the dogs outside!" I said. "They're wonderful. You're very lucky. I love mabari."

"Yeah?" he said, grinning and stepping closer to me. "Mine's name is Hafter. Some of the other guys laughed—"

"Why would they?" I said. "That's a _perfect_ name for a mabari! That or Dane are like the _best_ names for a dog _ever_."

"See, that's what I said," he replied, beaming. "And he likes it. They'll let you know if they don't, they're smart like that. What's your name? They call me Noll."

I introduced myself and we continued speaking through several more drinks. I began to lose track of how much I had. He asked me some questions about being a mage, the Circle, and how I ended up a Warden. I decided to tell him Duncan found me at the tower and skip the whole 'caught helping a maleficar' part. For the most part, though, he talked about his dog. On and on and _on_ about the dog. Dogs are great. I _love _dogs, but Maker's breath, talk about something besides the dog! I would have been bored half-senseless… well, no, I _was_ bored half-senseless, but he was cute and it had been weeks since I'd so much as kissed anyone. I wasn't entirely sure he was thinking the same thing as me, since he was only talking about his _dog_, but I suspected.

We were interrupted by people trying to lead everyone in a toast. "To King Cailan!" someone shouted. Automatically, we held up our glasses, repeating that.

"How about one for the man who'll _really_ save us," someone shouted. "To Teyrn Loghain!" With that everyone enthusiastically cheered and hollered, holding up their glasses again. I'm sure I was among the loudest.

Toasts were offered to the various factions that were taking part in the battle. When someone cheered for the Grey Wardens Noll actually grabbed my arm, holding it in the air so everyone held their glasses out towards me. I blushed and covered my face, laughing.

Very drunk, and hoping to stop him before he could start up on his dog again, I turned to Noll and asked "Did the tattoos hurt?"

"A bit," he admitted. "Not bad, though." He handed me another pint, holding his hand over mine longer than necessary. All right, maybe he was thinking the same thing as me. Now that I got his mind off the damn dogs, at least.

I held up my fingertips. "Can I touch them?" I asked. _Maggie, you are a wicked, wicked woman,_ I thought to myself as he grinned, closing his eyes. I traced my fingertips across one cheek and he grabbed my wrist, moving my hand so he could kiss my palm. We both smiled at each other. He let go of my hand and blushed before quickly turning and ordering another drink for himself.

Apparently several people had brought musical instruments with them, and began to play from the corner of the room. "Can you dance?" he asked me.

"You kidding?" I said. "I _love _to dance! But… where?" The room was packed with tables.

He gestured to one of the other ash warriors and the two began clearing off the largest table in the room. Noll climbed up and then reached down, grabbing my hands and pulling me up. His friend did the same, pulling one of the female knights onto the table. She looked at me and grinned. Leaning forward she whispered "Hey, we could all be dead tomorrow. Might as well have some fun first just in case, right?" I laughed and said something in agreement. The four of us linked arms and began stepping in a circle, around the edge of the table, laughing the whole time. It was a basic reel and I knew all the steps, even as drunk as I was. After the fourth direction change we all took a step towards the middle, giggling as our heads bumped. It seemed like everyone was in the same state as me.

Unfortunately we'd either underestimated the length of our steps, or overestimated the size of the table. As soon as we all stepped back, well, it turned out our dancing surface wasn't quite big enough. The knight was the first to fall, shrieking as she went backwards and landing on the ground with her feet still on the table. I tumbled off next, landing on the ground with my one leg tangled in a chair and the other on the table edge, my robes flying up almost to my waist, followed by Noll who actually landed on top of me. The table went sideways and hit another, knocking it to the ground and sending broken glass everywhere.

"Hello," Noll said, looking down at me lying on the floor below him.

I giggled, looking up at him. "Oh! You're bleeding," I said. He had a cut on his cheek from a glass.

"So are you," he replied, tapping me above my left eyebrow. Well, that would explain why my vision was tinted red. We both started laughing, too drunk to care, and then he _finally_ kissed me. Of course, we were lying on the ground surrounded by broken glass, bleeding, and I'm sure more than half the room was getting a real eyeful of my underpants, but Andraste's sword, it was _about time, _and it was _fantastic_.

"Maggie, is this what you call not overdoing things?" a familiar voice said after a moment. Noll pulled back and I groaned, putting my hands over my face.

Noll scrambled off me and climbed to his feet, offering me a hand up. Uncovering my eyes I saw Duncan standing next to him, doing the same. I quickly took each of their hands and stood, straightening my clothes and shaking a few bits of glass from my hair.

"Sorry, ser, er, Duncan. Sorry Duncan," I mumbled. "Um. It was an accident."

"That _is_ a relief," he replied. "I'd hate to think all of you started _intentionally_ upending tables and rolling around in broken glass." He reached into the pocket of his armor, removing something. Handing it to me, I could see it was a health poultice. Noll helped me clean out the cut on my face, and then I took care of the one on his, while Duncan spoke to the bartender. I noticed him getting a glass of something. "Water," he said, passing it to me. "I also recommend you think about going to bed soon, I want to reach Ostagar tomorrow, hangover or not." I nodded, accepting the glass, and he disappeared back towards his room. I was fairly sure I could hear him laughing on the stairs.

"_That's_ your commanding officer?" Noll said. I nodded glumly. "Wow. You're lucky. Mine would be screaming his head off right now if he saw this. Not patching me up and getting me water. Good for me he's passed out drunk upstairs." I looked over, the female knight was currently getting shouted at by a very angry looking man. I _was_ lucky.

"Yeah, I'm amazed he wasn't angry," I agreed. "I just hope he doesn't yell tomorrow. I haven't seen him yell yet, but something tells me it would be… bad." I sipped the water and realized there was no way I could use a health poultice on my cut without covering my entire eye. I set the glass down. "Right. I'm going to try and heal this. If I accidentally set myself on fire can you dump that water on my head?"

He looked nervous. "Um… sure."

After a few tries I was able to summon a spell. Fortunately for me it was the proper spell and I felt the shallow cut heal. Touching it I sighed. "A scar. Figures. I really should have paid more attention in healing class."

"Nah, it's cute," Noll said. "Like, it's got character. You can tell people you got it at the Battle of Ostagar! Here, get mine." I raised my hand and, being _extra_ careful to use the right spell, healed his cut. Fortunately they were both from falling glass. Bleeding a lot since face and head wounds always did, but very shallow. Barely more than deep scratches, really. He touched the cut. "Nice," he said. "I can brag about that."

"Battle of Ostagar?" I asked, giggling.

"No way," he said. "Dancing with a pretty mage. _Much_ more exciting than some battle."

Impulsively I leaned forward and kissed him. From the way he grabbed me and pulled me closer it seemed I had the right idea. After a moment I realized his fellow ash warriors were watching us and hooting from across the room. We broke apart and laughed. He looked over at our audience and flipped them the finger. "So, I'm going to bed," I said, keeping my voice quiet enough his friends couldn't hear me.

"What?" he said. "Now?"

"It's _late_," I pointed out. The healing spell directed at my head had the side effect of sobering me slightly.

"Oh."

I turned towards my room, he stayed at the bar looking dejected. "You're not coming with me?" I finally asked, wondering where his thoughts and mine had split off.

"Oh!" he said, nearly knocking me down as he raced for the stairs. I giggled, following him up.

"So… your room or mine?"

"I'm sharing my room with three other guys," he said.

That answered that. "I got a private room."

"Nice," he said. I unlocked the door and kicked my boots off, sitting on the edge of the bed. He followed me in and locked the door behind him, setting his boots neatly by it before sitting next to me. "So, um, where were we?" Noll said, grinning at me. We fell back on the bed, kissing. "I have a confession," he said after fumbling behind me for a moment.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" he insisted. "Nothing's _wrong… _I just… well, I've never been with a mage before and—"

"We're… built the same as normal people," I assured him. I knew that much, at least, even though I'd only been with other mages in my life. Someone had asked once, when all the girls got the big 'don't let some idiot get you pregnant' lecture. I, and a few others, laughed. I mean, if we were somehow different physically they wouldn't have to wait until we cast a spell to discover we were mages. That much was obvious. Still, I suppose it was something people thought about.

"No, I know _that_," he laughed. "I just have no idea how to get these robes off you!"

I started laughing, too, then. "Well, we're even since I don't know how armor works!"

"Each get our own?" he suggested.

"Sounds good," I agreed, and we climbed off the bed to our feet. Once my robes were off I debated on ditching my underwear immediately. I glanced over and saw he had, so I did the same before climbing back onto the bed, this time under the blankets.

"Should I put out the candles?" he asked.

"I can," I said, and raised a hand. One by one they went out, snuffed by a tiny amount of ice.

"That has to come in handy," he said, laughing and wrapping his arms around me.

"Sometimes," I admitted, nibbling on his earlobe. I was running my hands over his arms and across his bare chest. Mages weren't exactly known for their physiques, so I had to admit, now that I had a chance to get… up close and personal with someone this muscular I could see why the women in books talked about it so positively.

"Why am I asking you about _candles_?" he said, before kissing where my neck and shoulder met, and, after a moment, biting at the same time the fingers that had been exploring my chest pinched down roughly. I groaned, equally glad the candle discussion was over. We were on our sides, facing each other. He worked his way up from my shoulder to my mouth, kissing me with an almost violent intensity.

A hand fumbled between my legs. I tried to shift my hips, hoping he would take the hint. When that didn't work I took his wrist and moved his fingertips to where I needed them. "There," I gasped. "Please."

"Whatever you want," he replied, grinning. I reached down and wrapped my hand around him, trying to match his speed. "Harder," he whispered. I complied and he groaned, burying his face against my neck. "Oh, Maker," Noll gasped out against my skin. I had my head thrown back, gasping and biting my lip.

I was moving my hips against his hand, breath becoming erratic.

"Stopstopstop," he gasped out, pulling his hips back. I moved my hand away, wrapping it around his hip instead. "Not how I want this to end," he managed after a second. I couldn't respond coherently since his hand was still very busy. After a moment I turned my head, muffling a cry in the pillow as my body shuddered. "Good?" he asked.

"Very good," I replied, still gasping for breath.

"Ladies first, that's what I say. It's just proper manners," he said cheerfully, climbing on top of me. "Ready?"

"Oh yeah," I said, shifting my legs and wrapping them around his thighs. I moaned as he slid into me, raising my hips to meet him. Pushing up to meet his thrusts, I wrapped my hands around his biceps. Yes… muscles were… very nice. My hips shifted from our movement and I gasped, arching my back.

He started moving faster, groaning before collapsing on top of me. After a moment Noll rolled over, and we curled up next to each other, covered in sweat.

"Do you think the battle will be bad?" he asked quietly after a few moments of silence.

"I don't know," I said. "Maybe?"

"Are you nervous?"

"Yes," I admitted. "Terrified. You?"

"Yeah," he said.

Neither of us spoke again. What more was there we could say?

* * *

_A/N: So... in several years Maggie will mention this while on a trip through the Deep Roads when the subject of her scar collection comes up. And every time I would mention potentially writing about her during-the-blight days someone would say I had to be sure to include Maggie dancing on the table. So... here she is in all her crazy drunken glory. Hope it lived up to expectations._

_Thanks so much to everyone who reads and reviews! _


	8. Ritual Now that's a nice calming word

The sound of Duncan knocking on the door and calling my name woke us both the next morning. "I'll be right out," I called back. Surprisingly, I didn't have much of a hangover. I actually felt… pretty good. Really good, to be more specific. Maybe getting to sleep in a real bed after a couple weeks of blankets on the ground was enough to balance my late night and excessive drinking.

"Morning," Noll said, sitting up.

"Morning," I replied.

"Guess we better get moving," he said, climbing out of bed. I nodded and quickly dressed. I would have liked to clean up a bit more but with Duncan waiting in the hall a full bath didn't seem like a good idea. I'd evidently overslept. Once dressed, I grabbed my pack and shouldered my staff, causing Noll to look at me and chuckle to himself. "No doubting you're a mage now," he said. I shrugged. Had he doubted me? He didn't seem annoyed or upset by it, just amused. I suppose most people went their lives never even seeing a mage, though. I should get used to it. He kissed me on the cheek. "Good luck. At Ostagar."

I nodded, squeezing his hand. "You too."

Opening the door I saw Duncan leaning against the opposite wall, already holding his pack and clearly waiting to leave. "Good morning," I said. He looked up and, seeing both of us leaving my room, sighed, shaking his head. I didn't see why, he was the one who told me we didn't have a vow of celibacy.

Noll looked at Duncan and blushed, muttering "morning, Ser," before rushing down the hall to where his group was staying.

"Are you in any condition to eat breakfast?" he asked.

"I'm just fine," I said, my good mood probably showing through my voice. "No hangover at all!" He sighed again. We sat down in the main room and someone brought over plates of food and coffee. "This is _fantastic_," I said through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. It was perhaps the best thing I'd had to eat since leaving the tower. Maybe longer.

Duncan nodded in agreement. He was already on his second plate. "Not feeling the urge to knock over any tables, are you?" he asked after a moment, the hint of a smile at the edge of his mouth.

I'd forgotten about that and blushed. "Yeah, that was… stupid. Dancing on the table wasn't my idea but… I probably shouldn't have gone along with it."

"Probably?" he said, looking like he was trying not to laugh.

"Well, since it ended with me on the ground covered in glass and bleeding, I guess I definitely shouldn't have." Duncan did laugh then.

"No permanent harm done," he said. "I suppose I a bit of chaos should be expected from a room full of young people heading to their first battle."

"Well, I'm sorry for all the mess and… everything," I said.

"As I said, no harm was done. And the bartender was quite clear that you weren't the… instigator, so he didn't ask us to pay for the damages."

We set out after breakfast. I saw Noll standing with other members of the Ash Warriors outside, tending to their dogs, and waved. His friends all started to elbow him and laugh until his skin was as red as his hair. But he smiled proudly and returned the gesture.

The road was crowded but Duncan and I moved past most of the groups. Although I still wasn't really accustomed to walking I also wasn't burdened by hundreds of pounds of metal strapped to every inch of my body like most of the men and women we saw. "Hey Duncan?" I said as we walked.

"Yes?"

"I, um… I wanted to thank you for yesterday. Giving me the money for drinks and letting me stay downstairs. I don't think I've ever had so much fun in my life." He cleared his throat so I quickly said "Not _that_. I mean, I met _people_, and they _talked_ to me. And they were _nice _to me! They always used to say that everyone hates mages outside the circle, but _no one _cared! They treated me the same as anyone! And I got to dance! And, well, it was just… great. Really. So, um thanks."

"You don't have to thank me," he said quickly. I could have sworn the expression on his face was pity.

"No, I do," I said. "And not just for that. You saved my life, and even though I know I'm completely sodding _useless_ as far as travel companions go and I can't do any of the stuff most people probably figured out when they were kids, you've been nothing but nice to me. But most of all you got me out of that damned tower. If some darkspawn cuts me in half, well, that's fine since at least I'm dying under the sky and not in there, and I had one day I could pretend I was just like everyone else."

"I'm sure you'll be fine," he said, patting my shoulder. Duncan seemed bothered so I didn't say anything else. I didn't think I would have upset him and felt bad now. Maybe he really did think the darkspawn would kill me quickly and my thanking him just made him feel guilty? I fell silent, walking at his side as we continued moving southward.

White towers rose up, almost out of nowhere. We'd never gone this late without making camp. It was already full dark, but evidently we were close as I could see others still walking, an almost unending line. The paved road we were on, which Duncan explained was the old Imperial Highway dating all the way back to when Tevinter controlled the land this far south, became more of a bridge, the ground on either side dropping away sharply. "Is that…"

"That is Ostagar," Duncan said. "The Tevinter Imperium built it to prevent the Wilders from invading the northern lowlands. It's fitting we make our stand here, even if we face a different foe within that forest." I nodded, listening carefully. It had to be very ancient, I was surprised so much was still standing. He looked at me carefully. "There have been small skirmishes already. The Grey Wardens and the King's forces have met darkspawn several times. _This_ is where we expect the bulk of the horde to show itself, though. Every Grey Warden in Ferelden is here, as few in number as we are." He made a face, looking off in the distance. "We _must_ stop the Blight here. If the darkspawn spread north… all of Ferelden will fall."

I swallowed roughly, following him across an actual bridge. Glancing over the edge I saw countless tents below us, spreading to the horizon, and small fires set between them, illuminating the dark camp. I didn't think there were so many people in the whole _country_ as there looked to be here.

We were barely two feet within the walls of the fortress before a man approached us. Everything about him shone. His blonde hair, his gold armor, even his bright grin. _It's like staring at the sun_, I thought briefly. "Ho there, Duncan!" he called, sounding for all the world like someone greeting a friend they were expecting for dinner, waving and jogging over to us. A group of men tagged along behind him. _Didn't anyone tell him we're about to fight darkspawn_, I wondered. How could he be so cheerful?

Duncan actually gasped slightly next to me, although he covered it quickly. "King Cailan?" he said, sounding shocked. _King? **That's **the king? Maker's breath, I'm standing in front of the sodding king!_ "I didn't expect—"

"A royal welcome?" the shiny man concluded, laughing. Maker's breath, it was the _king!_ I stood up straight, trying to look serious, and smoothed out my hair as best I could when he wasn't looking. I wished I hadn't cut it myself at camp, it had been sort of… sticking up everywhere ever since then, making me look a bit... crazed. "I was beginning to worry you'd miss all the fun," he chided Duncan.

"Not if I could help it, your Majesty," Duncan said, sounding like he was trying his best not to issue one of those sighs. The king didn't seem to notice, though. He grabbed Duncan's hand and grinned.

"Then I'll have the mighty Duncan at my side in battle after all! Glorious!" _Glorious? _I thought, remembering the pictures of darkspawn I'd seen in books. The drawings of ruined cities, statistics of entire regions devastated, tens of thousands dead... **_Glorious? _**Maker's breath… our king… he was an _idiot_. How did this happen? Do... do people _know_? I tried not to let the shock show on my face. That was good, since he turned to stare at me next. "The other wardens told me you found a promising new recruit. I take it this is she?"

"Allow me to introduce you, your Majesty," Duncan began, but the king cut him off.

"No need to be so _formal_, Duncan," he said. "We'll be shedding blood together, after all." Well, that was good. At least he was aware that people could get injured in battle. Until then he made it sound like they were preparing an Andraste Day parade. Knowing he was aware that we could bleed was good. I hoped fervently that he also knew we could _die_.

Oh, but then he turned the grin on me.

If he was like looking at the sun before, well, this was like having the sun look back at you. _While grinning_. I felt my mind grind to a sloppy halt and returned the goofy expression despite myself. "Ho there, friend! Might I know your name?"

I giggled. "I doubt you do, but anything's possible," I said. Wait… What happened? Was I _flirting_ with the King of Ferelden? I shook my head, trying to think clearly. How did that _happen_?

Fortunately he was laughing at that. Hey, I made the king laugh! Way to go, Maggie! "You've got yourself a lively one, Duncan!" he said. Duncan sighed again. "Here I was beginning to think the Wardens were all stodgy priests!" Stodgy? Oh… that can't be good. They're certainly not going to be fond of me if that's the best adjective for everyone.

I quickly said "I'm Maggie, Your Majesty," and attempted a curtsey. Fortunately Duncan caught my arm before I tumbled to the ground, feet tangled together. I suppose there was a trick to it.

The king said something about being pleased to meet me, and talked about how he was happy to help the Wardens bolster their numbers. "I understand you're from the Circle of Magi," he said, glancing at my staff. "I trust you have some spells to help us in the coming battle?" I promised him that I'd do my best. "Excellent!" he said cheerily. "There are too few mages here, another is more than welcome. The other mages all seemed very surprised to learn who the new Grey Warden was." I think even my _toes_ blushed at that. I'm sure they were all _very_ surprised. Particularly if they knew the circumstances surrounding my departure. "It sounded like there was a story there! You'll have to stop by and regale me with it sometime!" I nodded and mumbled something about how I would do just that, still blushing. He went on to officially welcome me to Ostagar before muttering that he had to leave since Teyrn Loghain waited to "bore" him with strategies.

Bore? _Bore?_ **_Bore?_**

Oh sweet Maker. We're all going to _die_.

Duncan pressed the king, reminding him forces from Redcliffe could make it to join us in a week. Apparently whoever was in charge of Redcliffe was the king's uncle. The king only laughed merrily in response. "Eamon just wants in on the glory," he said. Yep. Going to die. Quickly, too. "We've won three battles already. The next will be no different."

"You sound very confident of that," I said before biting on my lip. Idiot or no, I had to remember he was the _king_.

Fortunately he didn't seem to notice the insult in my words, although Duncan shot me a dirty look. "Overconfident, some would say," he replied, grinning at me again. I returned the grin and kicked myself for it the moment his head turned away. How did he _do_ that? "Right, Duncan?" he added, elbowing my new commanding officer.

Duncan _did_ sigh then. "Your Majesty, I'm not… certain the blight can be won as… quickly as you wish," he said, obviously being very careful about choosing his words. "None have ended in less than a decade, most going on far longer."

The king just looked dejected. "I'm not even sure this is a _true_ blight," he said. "There's plenty of darkspawn, but alas, we've seen _no_ sign of an archdemon." _Alas_? He was _hoping _to see the archdemon? Did he think it would bring _candy_? Hopefully my quick death would be fairly painless.

"Disappointed, your Majesty?" Duncan said, before closing his jaw so quickly I heard his teeth click together. I glanced over at him and he gestured for me to keep quiet. The king was going on about how he wished it was a real battle, like in an old legend. And said this would "have to do."

No, my very quick death would be _agonizing_. And then the shiny king was gone, his guards trailing after him. I took a deep breath.

"He's…"

"Yes," Duncan said, nodding. He sighed again. "But he is one of the few Grey Warden allies in Ferelden."

"He's not _really_ in charge, though, is he?" I whispered.

"He thinks so," Duncan said, just as quietly. "But Teyrn Loghain is the one who will win or lose this battle." He dropped his voice even lower, I had to lean towards him to hear. "I want to caution you, Loghain does not trust our order, or me. He has his reasons; perhaps someday I'll tell you the story. Unfortunately, clarifying any misunderstandings between us would involve revealing too many of our secrets. I understand your admiration for him but if you seek him out don't expect the same warm welcome as we received from Cailan."

I nodded, disappointed.

"The king was correct, though," Duncan said, his voice returning to something closer to a normal tone. "They have won several battles."

"You sound _so_ reassured," I said, snorting. "He doesn't take the darkspawn seriously at all!"

"True," Duncan agreed. "We lost men with every battle, and their numbers continue to grow. For every one we kill ten more arrive the next day. They outnumber us now, and quite easily at that." He sighed. "I _know_ this is a blight. I _know_ there is an archdemon. But… I can't ask the king to act on something I have no way of proving to him."

"He does seem to regard the Grey Wardens highly," I said. "Maybe he would listen?"

"Not highly enough to wait for reinforcements from our brothers and sisters in Orlais," Duncan said. "Or for his uncle's forces from Redcliffe." He looked out at the sprawling camp. "Our numbers in Ferelden are too few," Duncan said, more to himself than me. "We have to hope Teyrn Loghain can make up the difference." He looked over at me. "To that end, the Joining ritual will take place tomorrow."

"Ritual?" I said.

"Every recruit goes through it to become a Grey Warden. It is brief, but some preparation is required, so we must wait until daylight."

"Is it…bad?"

"It is dangerous," he said, sounding like he didn't want to admit that. "I can't say anything else about it, not until tomorrow. You'll learn everything in good time. I just need you to trust that everything we do is necessary."

"Is it at all like the Harrowing?" I asked, hoping he would give me some hint.

"It is an ordeal," he said. "I'm sorry you have to endure another so soon." I sighed and nodded. Almost half the people who took the Harrowing died. I know Duncan was aware of that since _I _told him. If this Joining was that bad… I might not even last long enough to see the battle.

"Am I the only recruit," I said, realizing he never mentioned if others were already here and wanting to think about something else.

"No, two others are here. I suggest we both see to getting a hot meal and some rest for now, though. There's much to do tomorrow." I nodded, following him across the bridge. He directed me where I could set up my tent, told me where food was, and said he would be in the valley where the rest of the Wardens were camped if we needed anything. With that, Duncan was gone.

For once I managed to get my tent up on the first try. Two others were in the same area. After finding the women's bathing area so I could finally clean up I returned and saw one man staring into the fire, sitting on a bench. "Hello," I said, assuming he was one of the other recruits.

"Greetings!" he replied cheerfully. "You must be the third recruit we've heard about?"

"That's me," I said. "I'm Maggie."

He introduced himself as Ser Jory and told me he had served as a knight in Redcliffe. I wondered if he knew he wouldn't be able to keep the title, but I suppose Duncan would tell him. "I was not aware that they permitted women to join the Grey Wardens," he said. I made a face and he quickly added "none of those I've seen thus far have been."

"Duncan told me they don't see any difference between men or women, same as with race," I said, shrugging. "I guess I'm just the only one right now. From what I know there aren't many Wardens to begin with."

"That is true," he said. "Perhaps two dozen total. Duncan seems very concerned about bolstering their numbers. That you're here means you obviously impressed him, that's enough for me. It _is_ exciting to be given a chance to join them, isn't it?" He seemed anxious to make sure I knew he didn't have a problem with women.

"I'm a mage, so I assume it means I'm qualified, regardless of gender," I said, gesturing to the staff on my back. Hopefully that would reassure him further that I was actually useful.

"Oh!" he said, sliding away from me on his bench. "I had… heard mages joined… but I didn't… that is…"

I sighed. So much for reassuring him I could hold my own. He looked ready to cry. "Mages aren't _that_ frightening. And we're on the same side." He muttered an apology and said something about how he should be grateful magic was on their side 'this time.' Since, of course, most mages banded with the darkspawn normally. I dropped my pack into my tent and excused myself, rolling my eyes as I walked away. Fantastic. Met one of my fellow future Grey Wardens and he's sodding _terrified_ of me.

I passed by a man making a very pathetic attempt at talking a woman into bed. He was saying something about how her "pretty face could be decorating some darkspawn spear" tomorrow. Giggling to myself I rushed past, not wanting to be his second target when she undoubtedly shot him down. Really, did mentioning a very _specific_ and gruesome death get _anyone_ in the mood to fool around? I could hear her slapping him all the way from the meal tent. His own fault, really. Horrible technique. Saying 'this could be our last night alive' might work, sure. Plenty of people I knew had used that when they expected their Harrowing at any time. But musing graphically about how someone would die? Mood killer if ever there was one. Too bad, since he was pretty cute, all things considered.

Finding the cook, I got a bowl of… something and sat down at a table. I saw the mages at another table but it was full, and I wasn't really friends with any of them. Most were at least a decade or three older than me. Oh, and didn't like me. There was always that. I could already see Senior Enchanter Adric giving me the stink-eye and turned my head, reading my book while I ate. I was almost done with it. I'd have to find another soon.

"Well you're not what I thought you'd be," someone said. I set the book down and looked up. The dark haired charmer with the horrible pickup line was now sitting across from me, elbows on the table, chin resting on his folded hands.

"Oh?" I said, still annoyed from my encounter with the other recruit. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Me and _ser knight_ were betting on who the third recruit was." He clearly didn't think much more of Jory than I did.

"Hope you won," I said.

"He thought it would be another pole-in-the-arse knight like him." I laughed at that. "_I_ said a comely lass with golden hair and terrible eyesight, so I'm off on at least _one_ point," he said. "Which still makes me closer than he managed. No chance you've got terrible eyesight, is there?"

"Nope," I said. "Sorry."

"Ah, one out of three still makes me the winner," he said. "I take it you have made ser knight's acquaintance?"

"I did," I said. "Nearly wet himself when I mentioned I was a mage. I guess the staff and robes didn't really clue him in until then."

"That's dense, even for him," he said, holding his hand out. "Name's Daveth." I introduced myself and looked at his hand, wondering what I was supposed to do.

"First time out of your prison in the sky?" he laughed. I nodded. "Hold out your hand." I did and he grabbed my forearm just above my wrist, using his other hand to wrap my fingers around his arm in a similar manor. After shaking my arm once he released his grip. I did the same a second later. "There you go. Now next time someone holds a hand out you won't look at them like they're speaking a foreign language."

"Thanks," I said. "A lot of things are… really different outside the tower."

He nodded, glancing at my book. "I knew one of those apostates once. He broke out and made it all the way to Denerim before the templars caught up to him. Poor bugger couldn't even manage to order a drink on his own. Worst pickup lines I'd ever heard, too. And from me that's saying something! Nice, though. Way too cheerful for anyone who lived in that prison for so long, if it was even half as bad as he said. Not sure if they took him back or, well…" he made a face and I nodded.

"So… I have to know," I said. "What could be the _worst_ pickup line you'd ever heard?" I was mostly worried that it would be a tower standard I'd try using outside, but it could be funny.

"Saw me strike out, did you?" he laughed. "Oh, he just looked at some gal after they'd been talking for a bit and said 'So… what do you think? Want to head upstairs?' casual as anything. I saw him get slapped more times than I could count. He just said 'well, it would have worked in the tower.'" I didn't reply since, well, it _would have_ worked in the tower. Daveth laughed even harder. "Ha! He was telling the truth about that, I see." I blushed. I guess I had to make sure never to use that line. Well, _again_. Since I now realized I'd basically said the same thing the night before, although not in so many words. "Hey, good to know your lives aren't _all_ misery and templars," he said. "So… want to go upstairs?"

I rolled my eyes at him and he laughed. "_Very_ funny," I said.

"Can't blame me for trying," Daveth replied. He leaned towards me, expression growing serious. "You know, it's about bloody time you came along. I was beginning to think they cooked this whole thing up just for our benefit."

"What do you know about it?" I whispered. "I've been trying to find out _anything_ from Duncan ever since we left the tower… I swear, that man has two hundred ways to say 'you'll find out later.'"

"Alistair's just as bad," he said. "Maybe worse since _he _says 'don't think about it, it'll just make you nervous.'"

"Who's Alistair?"

"He's the newest member, so that makes him our babysitter. I'm sure you'll meet him tomorrow, they've got plans for us. He's a bit… strange. Acts like everything's a big joke. Kind of reminds me of His Royal Shininess."

I snorted laughter with that. "Maker's breath, I just met him. It's… I just… I mean, he's the _king_, and…"

"And he's an _idiot_," Daveth finished in a whisper. We both laughed. "Glorious!" he said, beaming at me. I laughed even harder, sliding half down the bench.

"It's bloody _terrifying_, really," I said. "He'll get us all killed!"

"Yeah, if the Grey Wardens don't manage first," Daveth said. "I was sneaking around last night, doing a bit of eavesdropping… I think they're sending us out into the Wilds."

"That's the woods?" I asked. "I thought it was all full of Chasind Wilders?"

He nodded. "Cannibals, beasts, witches- no offense, and now darkspawn," he said, looking grim. "I grew up on stories about the Wilds. My home village isn't far from here. I've even been in there a few times… scary place."

"Maybe it's like… a test? Like we have to go kill darkspawn for ourselves?"

"Could be we have to bring back a souvenir or two," he agreed. "It's all too secretive for me. Makes my nose twitch."

I pushed the bowl aside and set my hands on the table, thinking about it. "And there's still that whole joining thing. That isn't it, Duncan said it was a ritual." I dropped my voice even lower. "From what he did tell me, I think it can kill us. He said it was an 'ordeal' when I asked if it was as bad as the Harrowing. But he didn't deny if it was." I glanced over at the mage table. Most had already left, gone to bed most likely. One saw me and seemed to point me out to Uldred. They both started laughing when they caught sight of me whispering with Daveth. I'm fairly sure they thought our conversation was _completely_ different from what we were really discussing. Feeling safe they weren't listening I went on. "Well, the Harrowing kills almost half the people who try it! No one outside the Circle really knows that, though, so don't tell."

"Oh _goody_," Daveth said. "Ritual. Now that's a nice calming word. Nothing safer than a _ritual_. Except maybe an _ordeal_. Fantastic." He gave me a grim smile and shrugged. "Guess we'll have to wait and see. Not like we got a choice." _Thank the Maker_, I thought, _another conscript_. It seemed very obvious Ser Jory had volunteered. I was relieved someone else had a… checkered past. He laughed, looking at me. "You look… relieved. I take it you're not a volunteer like Ser Knight?"

"Not exactly," I admitted. "Although I would have, just to get out of the tower. And, well, I kinda think the Grey Wardens are pretty awesome... although that was before I knew about the _rituals_ and everything. It's the only place for someone like me where I'm actual useful, and don't have to worry about some templar breathing down my neck."

"I've got nowhere else to go after what Duncan saved me from," he confessed.

"He must like doing that," I said. "Same here."

"Maybe if he collects enough criminals the big boss in the Anderfels gives him a prize," Daveth said. I giggled, trying to imagine what the list he sent in could look like. "You know," Daveth said after a moment, "your book there was banned by the Chantry."

"Really?" I laughed. "I didn't know that. I swiped it when we passed through Denerim, to be honest."

"A thief!" he said, sounding scandalized before grinning. "You really are a lass after my own heart, aren't you? Not only are you reading absolute _filth_, but it's stolen filth, no less!" I laughed at that, but we both fell silent quickly. I couldn't stop worrying about the Joining and fighting darkspawn and everything else that was all happening _tomorrow_. If it was as bad as the Harrowing… I shuddered. A quick glimpse at Daveth made me think he was doing the same thing. He was chewing on a nail staring intently at the top of the table.

I bit my lip. Well, we could very literally die _tomorrow._ Which meant this could be our last night alive.

"So… want to go upstairs?" I asked, offering him a small smile.

He gave me a surprisingly grateful look. "Yeah. Definitely."

* * *

_A/N: I swear, she's not going to jump into bed with someone in every chapter. Really! I wrote myself into a corner in that regard, since Alistair made a comment about her behavior at Ostagar a few times. And speaking of... next chapter she meets Alistair._

_I cannot thank everyone who reads and reviews enough. You guys are like totally the wind beneath my wings or something. No, that's horrid. You're the tabasco in my bloody mary. And the vodka, too! Yes, that's much better.  
_


	9. I probably only got a tenth of an eyeful

"Hey Daveth, have you seen the new girl?" Someone was shouting just outside the tent. I winced, pulling the blankets over my head when the sun poked through. "Ser Jory said he saw her last night, but— woah, sorry, thought you were alone. I'll… find you later," the light disappeared and I heard someone walking away, very quickly, calling "sorry!" over his shoulder.

"And that," Daveth said, "was Alistair. I'm sure we gave him quite a scare, he was raised by the Chantry."

"Oh, fantastic. What a first impression." Well, maybe the Chantry kept them so isolated he thought we were just trying to… keep warm? I wasn't doing anything wrong, but I'd been forced to sit through enough services to know how the Chantry thought about such things.

He chuckled at that. "I don't even think he looked long enough to actually _see_ you." He stretched. "I'm going to get cleaned up and grab some food. You'll probably want to do the same and find him." I nodded and pulled my robes back on. He left the tent first, I followed a moment later after getting my clothing in order.

"There you are," someone said just as I stepped out of the tent. I looked over and saw Duncan walking over to the campsite. "I just bumped into Alistair, he said he couldn't find you this morning."

"Oh," I said, pushing my hair behind an ear. "No, I've been here."

"Well, now that you're awake get some breakfast and try and find Alistair, he's around the camp somewhere."

"Sure thing," I said, ducking into my actual tent and grabbing a change of clothing before heading off to wash up. I had worn my circle robes the day before, assuming that would be the best thing to have on when we arrived in case I saw anyone I knew. I cleaned a few spots off them and laid them out next to my bedroll to dry when I returned to my tent. My new robes had better enchantments, and the shorter skirt would make running through the woods easier if Daveth was right about what they had in store for us. Leaving my pack and grabbing my staff, I headed over to the meal tent.

I couldn't see anyone I recognized, and no one looked like they might be a Chantry-raised Grey Warden named Alistair, so I sat alone after grabbing a plate. I'd been eating for a few minutes, looking around, when a familiar figure sat across from me. "I must say, I was surprised to learn you were here, Margaret" she said. "And look at you, new robes and all."

"Good morning, Senior Enchanter Wynne," I said almost automatically, once I'd swallowed my toast. "I just arrived last night."

"Oh, I know," she said, smiling slightly. "Irving sent word ahead of you that you were the Grey Warden's latest recruit, and Uldred mentioned he saw you here already… making friends." Why was I not surprised by that? "Irving always said you had promise. I'm sure he would have preferred to see you stay among us in the Circle, but… a Grey Warden, fighting alongside the king. Not too shabby for someone just out of their apprenticeship." I smiled and nodded, surprised at the compliment. "I'm surprised you left so soon after your Harrowing, though. You would think Duncan would have allowed you at least a day to recover…" I swallowed, not saying anything. Irving must not have told her the specific details surrounding my departure.

"Darkspawn won't wait," I said. "I was fine, though. I didn't feel sick after."

"I wanted to congratulate you on your Harrowing. Did you know you managed to beat the previous record for fastest completion? Marvelous work."

"I didn't know that," I said, shocked. "But… to be honest, it was horrid," I admitted, dropping my voice to a whisper. "Is it the same for everyone?"

"There might be slight variations, but yes, it is almost always the same."

"Well, I know that, somehow, the sloth demon and pride demon in there are… in on it, and don't attack. But they're _demons_. They can't be trusted! What if they turned on me? I wouldn't be possessed, I'd just be _dead_. One apprentice can't stand against a pride demon alone in a fight. That isn't a fair test. It isn't even a _test,_ it's an _execution!_"

"I thought the same thing after mine," she said, surprising me. "But, this system has been in place since long before you, or even I, were born."

"That doesn't seem reason enough not to question it," I said. "Still don't think demons should be trusted," I said between bites.

"A wise attitude to cultivate," Wynne agreed. "Well, Duncan isn't an easy man to impress, and he speaks highly of you." She paused. The unsaid _I don't know why_ hung in the air.

"I'm confident in my skills," I said, munching on a piece of toast.

"Good," she said. "You'll need them when you face the darkspawn."

"King Cailan thinks the battle will go well." I chuckled at that.

"Kings must always appear confident. It inspires confidence in their troops," she said, clearly catching that I didn't share his opinion. She then compared him to a puppy, which I found surprisingly apt.

"You'll have to excuse me," I said once I finished eating. "I'm supposed to find someone called Alistair."

"Please, don't let me keep you, I'm sure Duncan has much for you to do. I believe I saw Alistair not far from the quartermaster earlier," she said. I thanked her and hurried away after putting my empty plate and mug in one of the crates for dirty dishes.

I decided I had to make one detour before I found this Alistair person. Cutting through the massive camp I saw a red and gold tent. The guard outside told me the king was away when I asked. I didn't know if he honestly wanted me to tell him about the Circle, but it seemed like it would be very rude not to if he did. I mean, you don't brush off a king! I nodded and walked to the equally impressive tent next to it. "You approach the tent of Teyrn Loghain!" the guard barked, much more formal than the king's man. "State your business!"

I had hoped that was who the tent belonged to. I bit my fingertips. "Is… is the Teyrn inside? What's he doing?"

"He is, but… it isn't my place to discuss his activities."

"Oh, come on," I said. "You can tell me a _little_ about him! What's he like? Is he tall? I always thought he'd be tall."

The guard shrugged and gestured for me to step closed. "Well… he and the king have been arguing for days. The teyrn's known the king since he was a baby so they don't stand on ceremony. The teyrn speaks his mind and the king yells right back." I couldn't picture the happy king _yelling_. But it wasn't as though we were dear friends.

"Why wouldn't the king do what he says?" I whispered back. "He's _Teyrn Loghain!_ He drove off Orlais!"

"I agree," the guard whispered back. "Without him we wouldn't be doing as well here as we are."

I had an idea and suspected this _would_ end with Duncan yelling at me. "Um… could I have an audience with the Teyrn? Please?"

The guard gave me a strange look but shrugged. "I suppose the Wardens have another message for him. Hold on." I gasped. I was going to meet _Teyrn sodding Loghain_! Right now! I think I squealed a bit while I waited. Glancing around, I noticed an unusual number of female knights milling around, watching me. Wait, no… not me. Watching the tent. I suppose I wasn't the only one who hung up pictures of the Teyrn, then.

I chewed on a nail, nervous, and waited. "Yes, what is it?" someone said, sounding tired. I looked up and he was… right there. Older than the pictures I had, but most definitely Loghain Mac Tir. The bloody Hero of River Dane was standing right here in front of me. He was even wearing the armor he took off the captain of the Chevalier right on the battlefield! I think I gasped. "Ah, you're Duncan's newest Grey Warden, I assume."

"How did you know that?" I said, amazed.

"His Majesty could not contain his excitement after your meeting. How could I _not_ hear about you?" I stared up at him, sure I looked like a fool. The king, the king and _Teyrn sodding Loghain_ were… talking about me! Me! I wondered what it felt like before you fainted, and if I would get any warning. If anything could make me faint that was it. "Cailin's fascination with the Wardens goes beyond the ordinary. Are you aware his father brought your order back to Ferelden?"

"Yes, ser," I said quickly. "In 9.10 Dragon. I read Brother Genitivi's _The History of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden_." Well, I'd read it six times, to be accurate. But I didn't want him to think I was insane. "I read his book about you, too," I added, immediately feeling foolish and blushing deeper shade of red, supremely glad I didn't mention I actually stole that particular volume right from the library.

"I… see," he said, raising his eyebrows. "I admit, have not. Maric respected the Grey Wardens. They have an honored place in the hearts of our people." It sounded like he was repeating something he said over and over again, but didn't completely believe. "But Maric would have understood that it takes more than legends to win a battle." He glanced down at me. "That's not an argument I'll repeat here."

"Yes, ser, you're completely right," I said, nodding.

He looked faintly surprised and amused by this. Probably because I was making a complete fool out of myself. "You're pretty for a Grey Warden. Don't let anyone tell you that you don't belong. The first Warden Maric brought to Ferelden was a woman. Best warrior I've ever seen."

I blushed to the roots of my hair. _Loghain Mac Tir _called _me_ pretty! _Me!_ "Thank you, ser," I managed to squeak out. "Everyone's been very nice, though. Well, almost everyone." I was still a bit annoyed about Jory, I had to admit.

"I hear you're from the Circle of Magi," he said, glancing at my staff. "The First Enchanter spoke highly of you. A great achievement, for one so young." I thanked him again, wondering if Irving sent a letter to the king and teyrn as well, or if someone from the Circle simply told him. "I don't suppose you'll be riding into the thick of battle with the rest of your fellows, will you?"

"I… don't know, ser," I said. "I'm not sure if they'll put me with the Wardens or the rest of the mages. I'll just go where I'm told and do my best."

"If Cailin has his way you will," he said, sounding grim. "But, I must return to my task. Pray our king proves amenable to wisdom, if you're the praying sort." I really wasn't, but something in his tone scared me.

"And… if he doesn't?"

"Then simply pray," he said sharply, before returning to the tent.

I wandered off, shocked. "What's he like," a woman in armor asked, running over as I walked away.

"Um… a little scary, to be honest," I said. "I think he expects the battle to be… bad." I stopped in my tracks. "Maker's breath, I just talked to _Teyrn Loghain!_" I put my hands over my mouth and giggled. "I was standing right next to him! Wow!" I squealed like a fool, bouncing up and down.

"I used to have a picture of him on my wall," she admitted. "I don't have the nerve to just go to his tent, though."

"I can't believe I did that," I said. I leaned towards her. "He has the _best_ voice. Did you hear him? I could listen to him recite… I don't know, census records and be happy about it!"

She giggled. "I know what you mean. So distinguished."

"I had a picture, too," I admitted. "The one on horseback, with his bow."

"The one at River Dane, with his hair blowing in the wind," she replied. I'd seen that one. I think I sighed a bit picturing it. So did she, though, so it was all right. She grinned and wished me well in the battle before returning to her work.

I wandered around looking for the quartermaster for some time before I realized I didn't know what exactly I was looking for. I had to stop and ask someone _what _a quartermaster was, and then _where _he was. He was, apparently, a store. I found the man, he made some rude comment about an elf working for him, and I dug through his supplies. "Lyrium?" I asked. He looked around and put a finger to his lips.

"Voice down! That's with my _other_ goods. The Chantry doesn't like anyone selling it." I nodded and bought all he had, filling my pockets and glad for the money I was carrying. Something told me no one at the Circle tent would give me any if I just went over and asked.

I wandered around the area looking for someone who might be Alistair. I heard a familiar voice when I neared one of the small elevated walkways. "Tell her I will not be harassed in this manner!" I walked over, Senior Enchanter Adric was arguing with a young man with short blonde hair.

"Yes," he said blithely. "_I _was harassing _you_ by delivering a message!" I giggled.

"Your glibness does you no credit," Adric barked. Actually, I thought it did him a good deal of credit. But then, I couldn't stand that pompous ass.

"And here I thought we were getting along so well," the blonde man went on. "I was even going to name one of my children after you. The _grumpy_ one!" I giggled at that, clamping a hand over my mouth.

"Enough!" Adric snapped. "I will speak to the woman if I must. Get out of my way, fool!" He pushed past the blonde and, seeing me, rolled his eyes, nearly knocking me over when he walked past. I'm pretty sure bumping into me was intentional, so I flipped his back off.

"You know, one good thing about the blight is how it brings people together," the blonde said now that we were alone.

I grinned. "I know _exactly_ what you mean."

"It's like a party!" he said. "We could all stand in a circle and hold hands. _That_ would give the darkspawn something to think about!" I shook my head, laughing, and he looked closely at me. "Wait, we haven't met, have we? I don't suppose you're another mage?"

"What was your first clue," I asked, pulling my staff from my back and raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, I just thought I'd already been yelled at by every mage in camp," he replied.

"You too? Watch out for Uldred. His yelling is the _worst_. I swear, he caught me stealing a bottle of wine from his desk _once_ and nearly set me on fire."

"Hope it was good wine," he replied.

"Wish I knew," I said. "He caught me before I got so much as a sip!"

He looked amused by that. "Wait, I _do_ know who you are! You're Duncan's newest recruit, from the Circle, right?"

"That's me," I said. "I'm Maggie."

"Alistair," he said, holding his hand out. Thanks to my lesson the previous night I was actually able to properly return the gesture.

"I should have recognized you right away," he said. "I'm sorry."

"We've never met, how could you recognize me?"

"Duncan sent word. He spoke quite highly of you."

"_Really_?" I said, surprised.

Alistair gave me a strange look. "Any reason he shouldn't?" he asked. I just shrugged. "Well, anyways, since I'm the junior member of the order I'll be accompanying you as you prepare for the Joining."

"So… can _you_ tell me anything or will it be more variations on how I'll find out in due time?"

"Sorry," he said. "The second one. I've got about eight different phrasings I can run through if you want. 'You'll know when it's necessary for us to tell you' has been _very_ popular lately."

"Not bad," I said. "Duncan seems to favor 'you'll find out all you need to know in good time.'"

"Yeah, I think that's always been his favorite." He gave me a sympathetic look. "Just… try not to worry for now. It'll only distract you." I sighed, he pretended not to notice. "You know… it just occurred to me that there have never been many women in the Grey Wardens. I wonder why that is?"

"No idea," I said, "don't all little girls grow up dreaming about killing monsters?"

"Do they?" he replied. "I wouldn't know, not having been a little girl at any point. Or a girl of any size, really."

"Huh, maybe it's just me," I said. "I always wondered why the other apprentices stopped inviting me to join when they fixed each others' hair."

Alistair laughed. "Sad… isn't it?" Where did the king get stodgy from? That wouldn't even make the long list of what I would call him. If anything, he actually reminded me of Jowan a little bit. He asked if I'd ever seen darkspawn, I had to admit only in books.

"I'd read a lot, too… but it really doesn't prepare you. They're so monstrous in person. I can't say I'm looking forward to seeing more." He shrugged and suggested we get back to Duncan.

I walked with him through the camp. "So, can you tell me about yourself, at least?" I asked. "I mean, not the stuff I can't ask, but anything else?"

"You first," he said. "Did you want to become a Grey Warden?"

"Yes," I said. "I was conscripted, but I've read just about every book about the Grey Wardens. I always dreamed I could be one. The… secrets and rituals are making me kind of question that, though."

"Don't worry about it," he said. "Really, it's once and it's done." I cast him an incredulous glance and he shrugged. "I was conscripted. Not that I didn't want to join, too." He took a breath and spoke the next part very quickly, looking away from me. "I was training as a templar before Duncan recruited me six months ago."

Oh.

_Oh_.

Well, of course.

I was tempted to laugh. It was funny, after all. I'm finally free of the templars. And who am I walking next to? A _templar_.

"You… were a mage hunter?" I asked in a small voice.

"That's right," he said, stopping and facing me. "I know you're a mage, but… it wasn't my idea. I was raised in the Chantry. _They_ decided my fate a long time ago, not _me."_

"So… you're not going to kill me or anything, are you?" I asked, still not quite able to manage a normal tone.

"What? No! Look, Duncan saw I was _miserable_ in the Chantry and figured my training against mages could double for fighting darkspawn. I'm _not_ a templar, not now. I'm a Grey Warden."

"All right," I said, nodding.

"The Grand Cleric wouldn't have let me go if Duncan hadn't forced the issue. I'll always be grateful to him," he said.

"He did the same for me," I said. "With the Knight-Commander."

"Wow," he said. "Sounds like there's more to the story than Duncan let on." We resumed walking.

I shrugged, not wanting to go into details _with a templar Grey Warden_.

"Have you met the others yet?" he asked when it became more than obvious I wasn't about to tell him the parts of the story Duncan left out.

"Yes," I said. "Ser Jory made a comment about women being allowed and then nearly wet himself when he discovered I was a mage. I like Daveth, though. He's funny."

"The _cutpurse_?"

"Yeah. You know what he called the king?"

"I'm almost afraid to ask."

"His Royal Shininess," I said, giggling. Alistair gave me a strange look but did laugh a bit.

"Well, his sense of humor must do him some good. He apparently talked some girl in his tent with him last night, I accidentally got half an eyeful when I went to find him this morning. Right here in the middle of camp! I mean, can you imagine?"

"You don't say…" I replied, trying not to laugh. "Scandalous. So, um, what's _half_ an eyeful?"

He laughed. "Well, I saw a girl's bare feet and a girl shaped lump under a blanket before I nearly fell over my own feet backing up. So maybe less than half an eyeful. I probably only got a tenth of an eyeful, if that." I tried not to sigh with relief.

We returned to Duncan, he was standing by a large fire. Daveth and Jory were already waiting. He made a comment to Alistair about sassing the mages. Alistair apologized and Duncan sighed. I was glad that sound didn't seem to be reserved for me. "You four will be heading into the Korcari Wilds to perform two tasks," he said. "The first is to obtain three vials of darkspawn blood."

"What… do we need darkspawn blood for?" I asked. I hoped it would just be the proof we'd each killed one.

"For the Joining itself," he said. "I'll explain more when you return." Oh… good. That was... not at all ominous. I really hoped we'd just have to smear it on ourselves or something. I really hoped they didn't bring us back and say we had to _drink_ it, that would be just about the worst option. I couldn't think of many other options beyond that and hoped there wasn't something even worse lurking outside the bounds of my imagination.

He also had us looking for old treaties, somewhere in a magically sealed ruin. If I wondered whether Duncan really thought this would be the end of the blight I knew the answer now. "They contain promises of support, and will be very valuable in the days to come." He wished us well and sent us off. We cut through the camp towards the Wilds. I spotted the Ash Warriors and waved to Noll, he waved back.

Not far away I was stopped by a man who asked if I could, of all things, muzzle a dog for him. I didn't quite know why he needed me to do it; the dog was clearly not feeling very good, but he didn't seem to be at all aggressive. He followed that up by asking if I could find some kind of flower in the Wilds. "Um… I'll try?" I said, not sure what we would face once we were through the gates. Alistair didn't seem to have any desire to rush us, so that was good at least. Once at the gate the guard let us past, closing it behind us.

I looked around at my first woods. It was… well, it was _filthy_. I felt like I needed another bath just stepping into it. We didn't get more than ten feet before we were attacked. Not by the darkspawn I was getting more and more terrified of facing, but by wolves. I felt bad hurting them, they looked so much like dogs. "Go away!" I yelled at them. "We're not here to hurt you!"

"They don't understand you," Daveth said, laughing as he shot an arrow. "And they are here to hurt _us_." Well, that was obvious enough.

"Stay back," I warned the others, and sent a fireball flying towards the largest group of wolves. Freezing the closer ones, I ran past, striking anything that escaped my inferno with lightning. I looked down at the dead wolf and sighed. It still looked like a dog.

_"… seeing that doesn't make me any less nervous about magic," _I heard someone say behind me.

_"I'm sure it's fine. Most mages don't… yell so much, but I wouldn't worry."_

_ "Heh, maybe she is possessed. Would explain why she's such a demon in—" _Oh good, that joke existed outside the Circle, too. Lovely._  
_

"Daveth!" I yelled, spinning on my heel. "I _will_ hit you with lightning if you finish that sentence."

"Hey, it was a compliment," he said, but held up his hands.

I ignored them, and moved ahead, looking around. They could get used to me, or not, but I wasn't about to stand here and get slaughtered because fireballs made them nervous. I heard a groan and walked towards it. There was an injured man on the ground. Alistair and the others were right behind me. I noticed they all looked at me.

"I'm not a healer," I said. "I can't fix that. We're not far in, we can at least carry him back to camp." The man demurred, insisting he just needed a bandage.

"I have some bandages in my pack," Alistair said. While Alistair wrapped up the injuries the soldier told us about how his unit was ambushed by darkspawn. Once patched up he limped away, warning us not to linger in the woods.

"Did you hear that?" Jory said. "An entire patrol of seasoned men killed by darkspawn!" He and Alistair began to argue, with Jory insisting it was too dangerous and Alistair saying we would be fine.

"What did you think being a Grey Warden _was_?" I finally said. "They're a group of_ darkspawn fighters, _not famous dancers! I'm sure surviving this is just another part of our test."

"That... is true," he admitted.

"Know this," Alistair said, his voice steady and calm. "All Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn. They won't take us by surprise. That's why I'm here." That was the second time I heard someone use the word sense with regards to the darkspawn. Duncan had said the same thing when he spent the day tracking the Dalish. What did that _mean_? How could they sense them? Was it a spell? Were there spells non-mages could do?

Daveth laughed. "You see, ser knight? We might die, but we'll be warned about it first."

"How reassuring," Jory said, sounding anything but reassured.

"Come on," Alistair said. "I'm not here to make this _easy_. Let's get moving."

We walked past crumbled remains of Tevinter structures. Daveth was in the front, or on point as Alistair called it, since he knew how to scout. Alistair and I walked behind him, with Jory trailing behind us. "_Scandalous, _huh," Alistair whispered, chuckling.

"Hey, it's not against the rules," I said. "I checked!"

"True," he agreed. "Didn't you _just _get here last night at dinnertime, though?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"_Why?" _he looked shocked. "You know, if you don't know why that's surprising _I'm_ not explaining it to you," he said. "You can ask Duncan if you want. Just… let me know if you do. I want to see the look on his face." He laughed then. "No wonder you were curious about how much I saw. Well, if it makes you feel any better you have lovely feet. Very… clean."

"Gee, thanks," I said drily. Daveth pointed out someone walking on a hill not far from us.

"I know," Alistair said. "And it's not some_one_."

I looked closer and gasped. "Maker's breath," I said as they spotted us and ran closer. I'd seen pictures of darkspawn. I'd listened to every word Duncan had said, every word Alistair said. I'd heard stories and listened to the men in camp. I knew as much about darkspawn and the history of the Grey Wardens as any one person could and not actually be a member of the order.

Even with all this, I still could never have dreamed of how horrible they actually were. They were… rotted. Still alive, screaming and running at us, but clearly rotted as though each was just a corpse. Their faces seemed to be made almost entirely out of _teeth_. Why would they need so many sharp teeth? _Darkspawn do take prisoners_, I remembered Duncan saying. I shivered, clutching my staff.

"Get moving!" Alistair said, too loudly, in my ear. "Don't just stand still and make yourself a big target!" I shook my head, looking at them again.

_Evil_.

Yes, that was the perfect word for them. _Evil_. Why would anyone care about something like blood magic when things like that were walking around? _They_ were the real evil in the world.

Now I just had to figure out how to kill them_._

* * *

_A/N: And now it becomes quite clear why Alistair and Maggie never went beyond the friend zone. Ah, first impressions... _

_Thanks for reading, and double thanks if you review!_

_Sorry if anyone got double notifications for this. The site was being glitchy, I had to delete the chapter and repost it.  
_


	10. I hate when mages make that face

The darkspawn were still running towards us and my arms seemed content to just… hang at my sides uselessly. _Damn you, Maggie, _I thought to myself. _Your grand career as a Grey Warden will end after thirty seconds? Move! _Genlock. That was what the short ones were called. That's what was running towards me. I remembered that. With another nudge from Alistair I lifted my arm and began casting spells.

I threw every offensive spell I knew at them. I enchanted everyone's weapons with flames, I tossed fireballs and shot lightning and sent ice flying through the air. I downed one lyrium potion and then another.

"Woah," Alistair said, catching sight of me with a third. He grabbed my wrist, removing the potion from my hand. "Slow down with those. We don't need you getting addled."

"I'll be fine," I said, shooting ice over his shoulder. "And, behind you."

He turned reflexively, pushing out with his shield. The darkspawn shattered. "Oh hey," he said. "That's… that's actually pretty good. _Gross_, but good. Keep freezing them and we can just run through and smash them before they melt."

"Got it," I said. Focusing on ice spells, I targeted the last of them. It was only a few seconds for the other three to hit them with swords and shields.

I didn't have a knife so I could only watch while the others collected the blood. Since my robes afforded more storage space than their armor I put them in my pocket, hoping they wouldn't break. "What do you think the blood's for?" Daveth asked me, voice low, as he picked the lock on an abandoned chest we found.

"I have an idea, but I _really_ hope I'm wrong."

"Yeah, I think I had the same thought," he admitted, pocketing a dagger from the chest. "Maybe we'll get lucky, though. They may just tell us to smear it on our faces and howl at the moon." He handed me a knife and set of robes that were inside. "Here, girl clothes. Never let it be said I don't give you nice things." I chuckled and thanked him, tucking the knife into my belt before I looked at the robes. They were the low cut on top high cut on the bottom sort that Duncan told me not to wear around camp. I folded them up as small as I could and found they fit in my biggest pocket, with the feathered top poking out.

"You think that's what we'll do? Howl at the moon?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. I'd had a similar idea, after all, but didn't think it was too likely.

"Not a chance," he replied.

We continued through the woods, finding small groups of darkspawn. I would freeze as many as I could, with everyone else smashing them. I even found the flower that the man at the kennel had asked about, slipping it into my pocket. "I think we work quite well together," Alistair said. I couldn't help but grin, glad I was proving useful. Maybe I was being unfair to him. I'd be amazed if six months as a Warden could make him turn aside a lifetime of being warned about how evil someone like me was, but who knows, maybe he never really believed it to begin with. I'd try and give him the benefit of the doubt, at least. He'd been nothing but nice since I met him, it wouldn't be fair to distrust him automatically.

Duncan had told me darkspawn had their own mages. That was why he was so desperate for mages to fight in the battle. I shouldn't have been surprised to see a tall darkspawn standing with a staff, shooting bolts of energy at us. _Hurlock_ my mind filled in. "That's an emissary," Alistair said. "Darkspawn mage."

I tried to freeze it but he resisted the spell. Lightning sent him stumbling back, though, interrupting his attack on us and howling in pain. He sent Jory to the ground with a shock. A moment later I saw Daveth struck in the shoulder by a bolt of energy from his staff, stumbling back holding onto his bow with a now-useless arm. "Get her back," Alistair said to Daveth, who rushed over and began hustling me over the bridge.

"What?" I said.

"No idea. But, he says get you back, I'm getting you back. Think this is far enough?"

I looked over at Alistair and saw him raise a hand. "No," I said, spinning and running further off, crouching behind a wall that should have been out of range, my hands wrapped around my head. I didn't think it would help, but I was sure it wouldn't hurt.

"What is it?" Daveth said, standing over me.

"Templar," I muttered.

"Maker's breath…" he muttered, looking over the ruins.

"Still glowing?" Daveth, shocked, didn't reply. "_Is he still glowing_?" I repeated. "I need to know."

"What? No… no, he looks… normal again."

"All right," I said, climbing to my feet. "I should be safe now."

"Wait, that was dangerous?"

"Only for people like me," I said. "He's a templar. He can drain mana and disrupt spells. If I was in range of that I'd be completely helpless right now." After I helped Daveth patch up his shoulder I turned on my heel and walked back over to Alistair, who was helping Jory up. "Two things," I said to him.

"Oh…. I hate when mages make that face," he muttered, backing up from me.

"First thing. I have a name, and my name isn't _her_. Second thing. If you _ever_ do that near me again and expect someone who doesn't know what you're doing, or what it could do to _me,_ to keep me safe, I will set your hair on fire. Tell me directly since _I _know how far away I need to get. If I didn't see you raise your arm right now I'd be _dead_."

"Oh, come on," he said. "I'm sorry, I'm _really _sorry. You're absolutely right, I should have warned you directly, I was just rushed and wanted to stop the emissary before anyone else was hurt. Daveth was right here and I thought asking him would be the fastest way to make sure you were out of range. But it wouldn't _kill_ you. I know it's awful, but it isn't _deadly_."

"No, but being completely unarmed and powerless in the middle of a forest filled with darkspawn is!"

He made a face. "All right, you do have a point. Look, it won't happen again. I _did_ try and make sure you were out of range. There wasn't time to think, he was about to rip Jory in half."

_Benefit of the doubt_, I reminded myself. "Well… we need to figure out what to do in the future, then," I said. As much as I didn't want to admit it, he did have a point. Even if he had screamed 'Maggie, get back,' I might not have realized right away what he was doing. "I mean, we'll be working together, I'm sure this could come up again."

"Next time… what if I just shout 'smite' really loud?" he said. "I'll only say it when I'm about to do something templar, and that way you'll know to get out of range. I'd say I'll shout 'templar' but I get the feeling that wouldn't have the same effect."

"No," I agreed, chuckling, "it certainly wouldn't." Shouting 'templar' would just make me look around thinking one was lurking over my shoulder. "Smite works. I can shout something like 'all clear' when I'm far enough away."

"Perfect," he said. "So… um… is my hair safe, then?" He put a hand up to it and looked nervous.

"For now," I said, trying not to laugh at the sight of the warrior protectively cradling his hair. I wasn't entirely successful.

"Good," he said, sounding relieved. "I like my hair. Burned hair wouldn't look half as good."

At last, we found what Alistair assured us was the destroyed tower. I saw a crushed chest and walked towards it. It may have been magically sealed at one point, but that was clearly no longer the case. Finding _anything_ intact within it would have shocked me, as crushed as the lid was. Unsurprisingly, the remains of the chest contained nothing more than dust, dirt, a couple spiders, and a dead mouse. "Ew," I muttered, closing it and backing off.

"Nothing?" Alistair said.

"Not unless Grey Warden treaties are written on dead mice," I replied.

"Ew," he said.

"Well, well," a feminine voice called. "What have we here?" I looked up. A woman, maybe a few years older than me, was walking along what remained of a wall. Her clothing was tattered and made the robes I managed to fit in a single _pocket_ look both concealing and suitable for winter. She was also _absurdly_ pretty. The kind of pretty that made me wince and wonder how someone as normal looking as I was could possibly be the same species as someone like that. And, even beyond that, she was also quite clearly a mage. "Are you a vulture, I wonder? A scavenger poking amidst a corpse whose bones were long since cleaned? Or merely an intruder, come into these darkspawn-filled wilds of mine in search of easy prey?"

I'd never met any of the barbarian tribes, obviously. I'd read about them and heard of them in history class, they stemmed from Alamarri, just like everyone in Ferelden. Most united under Calenhad, becoming, well, us. Some refused, though, retreating south and becoming the Chasind Wilders, or to the west, becoming the Avvarian hillsmen. I had the idea they were wild and savage. That was what everyone said, after all. They were barbarians who attacked without provocation and waged war against us for hundreds of years after the unification of the country. I'd imagined their speech would be primitive, if they even spoke the same language we did. Hers was almost poetic, though. Old fashioned, certainly, and unusually formal, but not grunts and broken sentences like I would have thought. She had clearly been educated. I wanted to ask her about a thousand questions, but it didn't seem to be the time or place.

"What do you say, hm?" she asked, staring at me. "Scavenger or intruder?" Why was she asking _me?_ Alistair was in charge here! Of course, Alistair was also staring at her with his chin resting somewhere around his knees, as a quick glance back revealed. I was tempted to roll my eyes. I bet she didn't even _know_ how pretty she was. Girls like that never did.

"Neither?" I said, not quite sure how to reply. After all, it wasn't _her_ land, I knew that much. But it was clearly her home, and any of the Wilder folk would rightfully see us as intruders. "The Grey Wardens once owned this tower."

"'Tis a tower no longer," she replied. "The Wilds have obviously claimed this desiccated corpse."

"You don't say," I replied. If I knew anything, it was _towers_. She ignored me.

"I've watched your progress for some time," she said. My head snapped up. Watched us? _How_? We hadn't been followed, I knew that much. She went on. "'Where do they go?' I wondered, 'why are they here?' And now you disturb ashes none have touched for so long. Why is that?"

"Don't answer her," Alistair whispered to me. It was a loud whisper, though. I'd be amazed if she couldn't hear. "She looks Chasind, and that means others may be nearby." Alistair's expression suddenly made more sense. He wasn't drooling over her, he was _afraid _of her! She began to tease him about barbarians swooping down on us. Personally, I thought that would be far more likely if we were _rude_, but no one else seemed to share my opinion judging by the comments they began to make.

Alistair, Daveth, and Jory had all developed some sort of collective madness the second the dark haired girl entered the ruins, and now that she was speaking with us it reached a fever pitch. I would have been fine if they were tripping over themselves to flatter her or… whatever it was normal men did around beautiful women. Instead, though, they seemed ready to run screaming just because she carried a staff. I clenched my fists, reminding myself I'd have to work with them for Maker only knows how long and should be nice. After the thirtieth reference to being turned into a toad I just couldn't take it anymore.

"If the three of you don't _shut up_, I'll turn you into toads myself!" I snapped, spinning to face them. "Andraste's tits, is this _invisible_?" I demanded, waving my staff in the air. Did it not occur to any of you that the extremely loud comments about mages might be a _tad_ offensive to me? Aren't we supposed to be allies?"

"Sorry, beautiful," Daveth mumbled.

"Sorry, I forgot you were a mage," Alistair added. I stared at him. "Um, I meant that as a compliment." I raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm… just going to stop talking now." Jory didn't seem capable of doing anything beyond looking at me in fear. I held up my hand, letting ice cover it as I grinned. He actually flinched back. All right, maybe that was a little mean. A little.

I could hear the girl snicker. I turned back to her and she smiled. "Women do not frighten like little boys," she said. "Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine." I made a point of being absurdly polite, if only to show the men there was no reason to be terrified of her. Besides, I had no idea what sort of magic she knew, and what kind of spells the circle kept from people like me, so it was best to be polite. Maybe she _could_ turn us into toads. Introducing herself as Morrigan, she asked if we were looking for something that was, in her words, "here no longer."

"You stole them, didn't you?" Alistair said. "You're some kind of… sneaky… witch… thief!" Leaving aside the point that most thieves probably didn't return to the scene of their crime to gloat, really, _sneaky witch thief? _The two of them began to argue, with Alistair making vague threats and the girl brushing him aside. Eventually she said it wasn't her that removed them, her words implying that she knew who did.

"Who did remove them, then?" I asked, interrupting their bickering.

"'Twas my mother, in fact," she said, smiling.

Well, that was… strange. But, mothers were supposed to be nice, weren't they? Hugs and cookies and so on? Not that I had any idea, but I'd read about them. I think my mother made me cookies once. I had a memory of someone with long dark hair handing me a cookie and setting me on a high counter. That seemed like a mother thing. Maybe she took them to keep them safe for us when the magic wore off. If so, that was incredibly nice of her. It only seemed obvious to ask Morrigan if she could take us to her mother. "Now _there_ is a sensible request," she told me. "I like you."

Alistair followed that up with another mage crack, snickering as I turned back to glare at him. He shrugged and gave me an innocent glance. I wondered how mad Duncan would be Ferelden's junior Warden returned with slightly less hair than he had now.

Following the girl through a path I was sure hadn't been there before, I listened to the muttering of everyone else. Whenever I turned around they fell silent. "I do not envy you," she whispered.

"I'm sorry," I said, feeling bad about their rudeness. After all, she was _helping_ us and for that Alistair and Daveth had made snide comments while Jory cowered in terror. "I don't think being an _ass_ is normal Grey Warden policy." I shrugged. "I'm new though, so who knows. Maybe I'll get a stern talking to for not wetting myself in terror while making frog jokes."

"You are a mage," she said. I nodded, it was an observation, not a question. "Are _you_ able to transform men into frogs?"

"Nope," I said. "Don't tell _them_ that, though. It does seem fairly useless as far as spells go... I mean, if someone's that bothersome why not just kill them? Better if I could make _myself_ a frog. Sneak around and listen to things, and then change back. _That_ would be handy." She chuckled, but didn't say anything. "Why, can you?"

"I cannot," she said. "Although it would not surprise me to learn my mother had such a skill. She is far more powerful than I." Huh. I guess her mother was a mage. I still didn't see the point to turning someone into a frog, though.

We approached, well, I guess it would be called a shack. An old woman was standing in front of it, watching us. "Greetings, Mother," Morrigan called. "I bring before you four Grey Wardens who—"

"I see them, girl," she said, cutting her off. "Much as I expected."

"Are we supposed to believe you were _expecting_ us?" Alistair said. I glared at him, wishing he would just _shut up_ for five seconds. From the power pouring off this woman I wouldn't be shocked if she was expecting us _and_ could turn us into a pile of ash with nothing more than a thought. If he was a templar he should _know_ that! My glare didn't seem to work, though, and soon Daveth joined in with comments about her being a 'witch of the wilds.'

Amazingly, Jory was the first to show anything remotely resembling common sense. "If she's _really_ a witch, do you want to make her mad?" he snapped. Even the old woman laughed at that, calling him a 'smart lad.'

Well, maybe she didn't know _everything_.

"And you?" she said, turning to me, with a quick glance at the staff on my back. "Does your women's mind give you a different viewpoint, or do you believe as they do?"

"Does it matter?" I said. "Believed or not, you're here, so some things must be accepted." I had no idea if the legends were true, and yet here we stood in front of a clearly powerful old mage, living in the middle of the wilds. She seemed pleased by my answer and stared at me closely. I shifted on my feet slightly, feeling strangely exposed under her glare. "So much about you is uncertain," she muttered, more to herself than me. "And yet I believe. Do I? Why… it seems I do!"

All right. Powerful, and completely sodding insane. She started talking about Morrigan dancing under the moon, which made the girl blush. "They did not come to listen to your wild tales, Mother," she said.

"True," the old woman agreed. "They came for their treaties, yes? And before you begin barking, your precious seal wore off long ago. I have protected these."

"You—" Alistair snapped, before cutting himself off as she passed him several rolled papers. "Oh," he said clearly surprised. "You protected them?"

"And why not?" the woman replied. "Take them to your Grey Wardens and tell them this Blight's threat is greater than they realize."

"Thank you," I said.

"Such manners!" she replied, surprised. Well, I suppose compared to the three behind me I _did _look polite, although few had ever complimented me on my manners before. "Always in the last place you look. Like stockings!" And, she was crazy. Couldn't forget that. Without clarifying her vague statement about the blight she sent us off, forcing Morrigan to guide us back to the king's camp. She did this with a grumble and roll of her eyes, saying nothing more as we walked. I thanked her for guiding us once we reached the gate, hoping for another chance to speak with her. After all, it wasn't every day one met apostates. I was dying to know what it was like, if it was as hard to avoid templars as they said, if she knew all sorts of spells the Circle didn't teach… It was almost exciting enough to make me forget whatever scary ritual Duncan had waiting for us. But, Morrigan just brushed my thanks aside and walked off, disappearing back into the woods.

"Neat," I said, more to myself than anything else.

"_Neat_?" Alistair said.

"Yeah," I replied. "I wonder what kind of spells they know. I bet they can do all sorts of things I've never even heard of. Neat. I wish she would have stayed longer to talk."

"They're apostates!" he said. "They're _criminals!" _he said, sounding horrified.

"They're just people," I said.

"People who are _breaking the law,_ yes," he said. "Mages aren't allowed to live outside the tower. _You_ of all people should know this."

I made a face at him. "I would do the same if I was them. I hated that damn tower. It isn't fair."

"Fair or not, it's the _law_. What if one of them became possessed? What if one of them became an abomination? They're a danger," he said, sounding like a perfect templar.

"The law's wrong," I snapped. "We have to live in a prison just for being born? Spend our whole lives with templars breathing down our necks, half of them getting their kicks out of trying to scare us until we cry when we're children and trying to screw us once we're adults? Forget that. I'd pick some shack in the woods over it any day."

"You're really exaggerating things," Alistair said. "Plenty of mages are very happy in the tower. It's not a _prison_."

"Yeah, what do I know, I only lived there my whole life," I snapped.

I stormed off. Grey Warden or not, it seemed very clear he took more than a few of the templar teachings to heart. Stopping at the kennels I handed the flower over. "Is this it?" I asked.

"It is!" he said, clearly thrilled. Without a pause he added it to a partially complete potion and applied the salve to the dog. "Oh, he looks better already," he said. I looked over at the dog. He didn't look much different, but he did seem happier.

"What will happen to him now?"

The man shrugged. "Let's give him a day or two to recover. Come on back after the battle, perhaps we can see about imprinting him on you?"

"Really?" I said, my bad mood evaporating. "You think that's possible?"

"Maybe," he said. "He likely knows you're the one who cured him. Mabari are at least as smart as the average tax collector." I had no idea what a tax collector was much less if they were at all intelligent. But mabari were something I understood. They say a mage created the breed, and even today the tranquil maintained most of the new bloodlines. I knew mabari were smart. They could carry out complicated orders and to train them all you usually had to do was explain things.

"That would be _fantastic_," I said. "I've always wanted a dog." He told me to come back after the battle. I nodded, promising to do just that after leaning over the fence to say goodbye to the dog. "You get better!" I called to him. "I'll come visit you soon!" He sniffed my hand and let me pet him. I leaned in so far I would have fallen head first into the straw had Daveth not grabbed me by the hips in time.

"So, you're a fan of dogs?" he said, laughing.

"Hey, I'm from Ferelden, same as you. Of course I am!" I grinned. "I think I'll call him Dane. That's the best name for a dog." He laughed at that but just shook his head when I asked why.

"So you return from the Wilds," Duncan said as the four of us approached him. "Have you been successful?"

"We have," I said, handing him the vials of blood from my pocket.

"There was a woman at the tower," Alistair said. "Her mother had the scrolls. They were both very… odd."

"Were they wilder folk?" Duncan asked.

"I don't think so," Alistair said. "They seemed to be apostates."

"The ward wore off on the chest," I said. "They kept the scrolls safe. For us. She also said the blight will be worse than we think." Alistair made a face at me, I made one back at him.

"I know you were once a templar, Alistair," Duncan said. "But Chantry business is not ours." I grinned at that, making a face at Alistair. "And I know you must find apostates very exciting," he said to me, "but I don't think basing strategy on something a woman in the woods told you would be wise." Alistair made a face at me as I nodded to Duncan. "We have the scrolls, let us focus on the joining."

"I'm ready," I said. I'd rather just get it over with. As scared as I was, the waiting was driving me up a wall. I'm sure everything I was imagining was a thousand times worse than the reality.

"Excellent," Duncan said. "You will need that courage to face what comes next."

"Courage?" Daveth said. "How much danger are we in?"

"I will not lie, we Grey Wardens pay a heavy price to become what we are. Fate may decree you pay yours now rather than later." Duncan sounded grim, and sad. I swallowed. There it was, confirmation. This _could_ kill us. Although what he said made it sound like surviving this wasn't the end of the danger, either.

"That's why it's so secret?"

"If only such secrecy was unnecessary and all understood the necessity of such self sacrifice," he said. "Sadly that will never be so."

"Let's go, then," Daveth said, looking nervous but determined. "I'm anxious to see this joining now." Even Jory agreed with that. Duncan nodded and directed Alistair to take us to an old temple.

We were silent following him through the camp. _What's the worst that can happen? _I told myself as we walked. _So you die? So what. You were dead already. This just bought you a few more weeks. And you got to go outside, so there's always that. Even if you live you could die in the battle tomorrow. Or the next one, or the one after that. Or, you know, the templar-Warden can chop off your head in your sleep when he finds out how you left the tower. So just do whatever it is without acting like some sort of big coward since it doesn't matter. You're already dead. _My attempts to calm myself down weren't really working.

Alistair left us standing in a fairly secluded area of the ruins. Jory began to complain about the joining as soon as he was gone. Daveth was snapping at him to stop whining and acting like a coward. Really, I did feel bad for him since I was certainly scared, too, but it wasn't as though any of us had a choice.

"I only know my wife is in Highever with a child on the way. If they had warned me… it just doesn't seem fair."

"You left your _pregnant wife_ behind to join the Grey Wardens?" I gasped, shocked. That just seemed… horrible. He wasn't a conscript, he _volunteered!_ From what I knew he actually won a competition to earn a place!

"I planned to return to her once my duty is done and the blight defeated!" he said. "She understood… this opportunity to join the Grey Wardens seemed too great to pass up…" Daveth and I exchanged a glance. He made a face of disgust, I'm sure my expression wasn't far off.

"Blights last _years, _sometimes decades!" I said. He stared at me and I shook my head, disgusted.

"Would you have volunteered if they warned you? Would _anyone_?" Daveth looked at him and Jory avoided his gaze. "Maybe that's why they don't. Everyone says the Wardens do what they must, right?"

"Including sacrificing us?" he finally countered.

"I'd sacrifice a lot more if I knew it would end the blight," Daveth replied quickly. I immediately felt selfish for being so afraid of my own death. He was right, after all. What was I? One person, and not a very good one at that. My life was nothing compared to the idea of those monsters trampling over the whole world.

"You're right," I said to him. "You're completely right."

He nodded at me before turning his attention back to Jory. "You saw those darkspawn, same as us. Wouldn't you die to protect your wife from them?" Jory couldn't respond. "Maybe you'll die, maybe we all will. But if no one stops the darkspawn we'll die for sure, and so will everyone else."

"I've just never faced a foe I couldn't defeat with my blade," Jory said sullenly. I shook my head and stood by the wall, leaning against it. What must it be like to only have to worry about the obvious danger? No demons lurking around the corner, no risk of possession just for taking a nap. It must make life so… easy.

Daveth turned his back to Jory and stood next to me. Silently, we exchanged a nervous glance and waited for Duncan.

* * *

_A/N: I've been SOOOOO looking forward to Morrigan showing up. Thanks so much to everyone who reads and reviews! _


	11. The best luck in all of Thedas

"At last we come to the Joining," A voice said. I looked up. Duncan was walking towards us, carrying a huge goblet.

"Knew it," Daveth whispered, also staring at the cup. I nodded in agreement. He stood straight, arms at his side and I imitated his posture, trying to look serious.

"The Grey Wardens were founded during the first blight," he said, "when humanity stood on the verge of annihilation." I listened, but knew this already. "So it was that the first Grey Wardens drank of darkspawn blood and mastered their taint."

"We're… going to drink the _blood_ of those creatures?" Jory gasped. I heard Daveth sigh, hand automatically going to his forehead, and I think I did the same. I guess the collection of blood and Duncan returning with an enormous _goblet_ didn't clue him in. I wondered if Duncan _had _to take him because he won some tournament. It seemed… strange. I mean, I'm sure being a good fighter was the first priority, but being an idiot couldn't be an asset.

I made myself try and pay attention. Duncan explained how they had all done this, and Alistair said this was the reason they could sense darkspawn, and why they were immune to the corruption. That did make sense, I suppose. It was more logical than my idea of some kind of spell non-mages could do.

I wanted to pay attention. It seemed like such an important thing, like I would want to remember this for the rest of my life, but all I could do was stare at the goblet. That, and remind myself the rest of my life might just be the duration of the ceremony.

Duncan said… something else, something about words they always said before this, and then Alistair stepped forward and started to recite something. I forced myself to concentrate, thinking it was important. He looked at his feet while he spoke. "Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you." That was… actually very nice. Depressing, but nice. It reminded me of a prayer.

Picking up the chalice, Duncan called Daveth forward. I offered him a smile, trying not to look nervous. He took the cup from Duncan and drank from it. We all watched as he doubled over, choking. His eyes went white and a second later he simply… fell over. Duncan shook his head. I heard Jory gasp in horror. "I am sorry, Daveth," Duncan said. He was saying something else but I couldn't stop looking at Daveth on the ground, those strange white eyes staring off at nothing. When it became clear no one was paying attention to me I bent over and closed his eyes, briefly brushing my fingers across his mouth.

Standing up, I saw Duncan and Jory arguing. Jory was saying something about how there was "no glory in this." Even if I hadn't figured that out when they accepted, well, _me_, seeing the darkspawn for myself would have told me. What kind of glory could there be wallowing among that kind of filth? It was just as well, though. I don't think I was well suited to glory.

I watched them, feeling slightly dispassionate about the entire thing. I certainly couldn't claim I knew Daveth well, but having the man who slept with his arms around me last night now lying dead at my feet was disturbing beyond what I was able to really express. I'd lost many friends, of course, but this was the first time I actually saw them die, right in front of me. When friends failed the Harrowing they simply disappeared, never to be seen again. Being confronted with Daveth's corpse was quite different. I'd often heard that dead people look like they're sleeping. Having seen him in both states I could strongly contest that belief.

And then Jory pulled a weapon on Duncan. Without thinking, I grabbed my staff, tensed and ready. It wasn't needed, though. Duncan pulled out his own blade and, within seconds, Jory was dead. I relaxed even as his blood pooled out by my feet. I noticed it running across the ground, getting on Daveth. That bothered me although I couldn't quite determine why. He was dead, after all, and wouldn't care.

Duncan apologized as he lowered Jory's body to the ground. I remembered my first primal classes suddenly, many years ago. The teacher, a elven senior enchanter with bright red hair, told us on the first day "never attack someone unless you're prepared to kill them or let them kill you."

Jory could have used that lesson, apparently.

Duncan was looking at me and I realized I still had my staff in hand. I replaced it on my back. "Should have known you wouldn't need help," I said with a shrug. He gave me a strange look and held out the goblet. I hoped he didn't think _I _was also planning to attack him!

"You are called upon to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good," he said. I looked inside it briefly, seeing something dark and viscous. It looked disgusting. It smelled worse. I drank it anyways.

Duncan said something else but I couldn't hear him. Pain ripped through me. I wanted to scream but even opening my mouth seemed impossible. Every nerve seemed to burn, I felt my heart pounding in my chest and wondered if it would simply explode within me. The agony went on and on, building until I thought this must be death, this must be the suffering of the beyond, since no human can possibly hope to survive this. If somehow it wasn't, if somehow I was still alive and feeling this, I hoped I would die soon. If I died the pain would end.

Then, as suddenly as it began, it was over. There was no gradual decrease of agony, no slow movement from pain to comfort. One moment I hoped death would come so it would just _stop_, and the next moment it did.

_I'm dead,_ I thought. _The pain is over so I must be dead._

I opened my eyes. A dragon looked back at me.

But it wasn't a dragon. Not really, not anymore.

_Oh sweet Maker please don't let it see me don't let it see me if you're really there if you exist please please don't let it see me._

Praying never works, though. Not when you _really_ want it to.

It looked at me. It _saw_ me. And it roared. And that was when I finally found my voice.

A hand was on my shoulder, shaking me. I pulled in a breath, feeling my aching lungs protest. Opening my eyes I saw Duncan and Alistair looking at me, expressions of relief on both of their faces. Somehow, I ended up on the ground. "Welcome," Duncan said, helping me to my feet. I was swaying slightly. "It's finished."

I noticed the bodies were gone. "Two more deaths," Alistair said. "At mine only one died, but it was… awful. I'm glad at least one of you survived." So… this was normal, then. He looked upset and kept glancing at the bloodstain on the ground.

"How do you feel?" Duncan asked me, looking concerned.

"That was worse than the Harrowing," I said slowly, still in shock.

"Did you have dreams?" Alistair asked. "I had terrible dreams after mine." He looked almost as shaken up as I felt. It seemed like Jory's death, or the manner in which it came, upset him greatly.

"It… looked at me. The archdemon. It _saw_ me."

Duncan explained this was normal, and said I would understand more in the days to come. Apparently even now that I'd survived the test there were still secrets. But, it was over and I was alive. Poor Daveth, though. I couldn't stop myself from glancing over to where he had fallen. I wanted to feel bad for Jory as well, but I couldn't help but think it might have been for the best in his case. I certainly wouldn't want to have my tent next to a man that would pull a sword on Duncan. Alistair gave me an amulet, a tiny glass vial with a drop off blood in it and a silver banded top. It was what remained of the blood from the chalice. After that, Duncan told me to take a moment to compose myself before going to some meeting with the king.

I went to ask him for details but he was already heading over. What would they need _me_ at some meeting for? So everyone can watch me look confused and say something foolish? I managed to catch up with Alistair, and he just made a joke about how if I was late the king would cry so I'd better hurry. Well, that was helpful. I asked if he knew why I had to go and he only shrugged, adding "better you than me." Not very helpful…

Alone in the ruins of the chapel, I leaned against the wall, taking a few deep breaths.

It was over. It was over and I was alive. And I was an actual, real _Grey Warden_. Unable to control myself, I started laughing. Either the Maker had a very, very strange sense of humor, or I quite possibly had the best luck in all of Thedas. Somehow I managed to parlay setting a maleficar free into living out my childhood dream. How did that _happen_? Still chuckling, I headed down the stairs, walking to where Duncan said the meeting would be.

The king was already yelling when I arrived. He apparently wanted to ride on the front lines, with the Grey Wardens. We were the _front lines_? Oh _goody_. I shouldn't be surprised. I would probably be dead soon, but it wouldn't come as a surprise. But… why would the _king_ want to be with us? Wasn't it usually wise for kings to _not_ get themselves killed?

He then told Loghain that they should wait for Orlesian forces to help us. Not Orlesian Wardens, Orlesian forces. I think I might have actually gasped at the idea. "How fortunate Maric did not live to see his son ready to hand Ferelden over to those who enslaved us for a century!" Loghain snapped at him, slamming a fist on the desk. I had to admit, I agreed. Even the Grand Cleric and Senior Enchanter Uldred both made faces at the idea. I still hadn't been able to determine why I was there. From the looks he kept giving me across the table neither could Uldred. I just kept quiet, trying not to look confused.

Oh, but then I realized what the king did. Maybe he was smarter than I thought… in an idiotic sort of way. The threat of Orlais was enough that, once gone, Loghain no longer objected to him riding on the front lines. "Duncan, will your men be ready for battle?"

"They will be, your majesty," he said. I was? I didn't _feel_ ready for battle. I suppose I was as ready as I could be, though.

The king turned to me and smiled. Unsurprisingly I was compelled to return the expression. "I understand congratulations are in order," he said.

"Thank you, your Majesty," I said, trying to sound serious.

"Every Grey Warden is needed now, you should be honored to join their ranks."

"I am, your Majesty," I said. Loghain snapped at the king again, complaining about his obsession with legends and glory, before detailing his strategy.

I tried to pay attention, watching the little figures they moved around on a map. From what I could tell, the king and Wardens would go in first, as soon as the bulk of the horde made their move, fighting the darkspawn close to the ruins. Loghain would take position on a hill some distance away and wait until a signal, at which point they would come up behind, pinning the darkspawn between both armies. It seemed… well, like a really good idea. If the first army was able to hold their line until the second came in it seemed like it would work very well, from what little I knew of things.

They began arguing about who would give the signal then. "Send the best," the king said. "Have Alistair and… the new Grey Warden do it." A look passed between Duncan and the King. Oh, send the best, Alistair and what's her name. Just… great. It seemed clear that, even if they did consider Alistair 'the best' Duncan just wanted me kept out of the fight. Didn't he trust me? I wanted to ask, but I wouldn't do that in front of all these important people. I was a little afraid of what the answer might be.

Duncan began to remind the king of the possibility that we would see the archdemon. I pictured it in my mind and shuddered. Uldred and Loghain were both looking at me strangely, I suppose I must have had an odd look on my face. I can't really imagine what 'soul crushing terror' translated to as far as facial expressions went, but I'm sure it wasn't attractive.

"Your Majesty, the tower and beacon are unnecessary," Uldred was saying. I wasn't surprised, I had been thinking the same thing. It would be easy for a mage to shoot a fireball in the air as a beacon. I could do it myself. It seemed odd to send me to some tower to light a real fire with so many powerful mages in the camp. "The Circle of Magi—"

The grand cleric cut him off. "We will not trust any lives to your spells, _mage_." She didn't even bother trying to hide the disgust in her voice. Well, that would explain why I had to climb to the top of some tower. Uldred and I both glared at her, I doubt I was bothering to hide my dislike any more than he was. Our eyes met briefly after we turned away from the Grand Cleric. I knew he wasn't any fonder of me than I was of him, but at that moment I think either of us would have been happy to stand with the other if only to prove a point to that bitch. I was so caught up in that strange moment I barely noticed Loghain telling the Grand Cleric to be quiet and agreeing to the tower plan.

Oh, but then the king talked about how _glorious_ it would all be. I shuddered. I think we all did.

And with that, the meeting was over. People began to drift away. Duncan didn't seem to need me so I walked over to Uldred. "So, you're the new Warden?" he said, looking at me with surprise. "Must say, that came as a shock."

"To you and me both," I said. "But… I wanted to ask you, when you go back to the Circle can you tell Brennan that I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to say goodbye?"

"Fine," he said, sounding annoyed. The grand cleric brushed past us and we both stopped, mid conversation, to glare at her.

"I _really_ hate her," I said.

"Any mage with half a brain should," he replied. "She is the symbol for all our suffering." I nodded, agreeing.

"Brennan told me you had a plan," I said quietly. "The night before I ended up leaving. Whatever it is… good luck. I would have been happy to help if things didn't turn out like this." He nodded and I returned to Duncan's side.

"What did you learn?" he said.

"The king's obsessed with glory, Loghian hates Orlais, and if it was possible for two mages to _hate_ someone to death the Grand Cleric would be a small smoking hole in the ground right now."

"Yes, I couldn't help but notice that," he said. "Nor could anyone else. You're outside their power now. Don't go out of your way to antagonize the Chantry, we prefer them to ignore us." I nodded.

Shrugging I said "I think Alistair's going to be mad he won't be in the battle. Why do you want to keep us out of it?" I looked at my feet.

"There are… reasons," he said. "You've been a Grey Warden for only an hour. I'd rather not throw you into battle so soon. It can take time to adjust to the changes." He asked me how I felt again.

"Hungry," I said, surprised. I didn't think food would be at all appealing after what I had to _drink _earlier, but it was almost all I could think of. The rest of my brain was occupied by a much baser urge. I didn't think Duncan had any need to hear about that, though. And I couldn't quite figure out _why_, either. Seeing the last man I shared my bed with dead at my feet shouldn't really make me want to go out and find someone new. I pushed it to the back of my mind, assuming it was some bizarre side effect over my joy at surviving and my worries about tomorrow.

He told me I could find food at the main Grey Warden camp, and that someone had already moved my tent. "I had another question," I said after Duncan gave me directions to the camp. He gestured for me to go on. "What happened to the bodies? Is there a pyre or…?"

"Yes, I should have told you already. The pyre has been burning nonstop since this began, you can find it at the northern edge of camp." After I thanked him Duncan left to speak with the king about something. I wandered over to the gate leading to the main army camp. The man guarding it saluted me before opening it. I looked to make sure no one important was behind me, but no, I was alone. Huh.

"Have a good evening, Grey Warden," he said before closing the gate. Well, that was… strange. I thanked him and set off to find the other Wardens.

Walking through the rows of tents I saw people drinking and arguing. One man tried to pull me to sit by his fire until he saw my staff and backed off. I finally saw Alistair standing and talking with someone, so I assumed that was the right area.

_"No, she's **crazy**,"_ he was saying. "_You should hear her yell in battle. And she nearly ripped my head off just for pointing out that apostates are breaking the law!"_

_"You don't think that might be a touchy subject for a mage?" _came the response. _"Anyways, she's cute. Saw her just after Duncan took her from the tower. Nice eyes. I think something bad happened there, though. She was all covered in blood and had a kind of shocked look about her."_

I snuck a peek, Alistair was talking to the dark-haired Warden who was at the inn where we had lunch just after leaving the tower.

"Hello?" I called. Both turned around. "This is the right campsite?"

"Yeah," Alistair said. "Your tent is the last in the row."

I nodded and walked over to it. My bag was inside. I dropped off the robes Daveth had found for me in the Wilds and walked over to the fire, helping myself to the food. Apparently most of the Wardens were already sleeping. I couldn't help but notice Alistair watching me from across the campsite, glancing at me suspiciously over the shoulder of the dark haired man. _Kit_, that was his name, I remembered. I tried to ignore him and finished eating quickly, cleaning up after myself and heading north.

A few soldiers were sitting on benches by the pyre. A very young priest was speaking in front of it. It was really just an enormous pile of wood, with dozens of bodies thrown on top. I suppose it was better than nothing, though. Apprentices who didn't survive the Harrowing weren't given funerals. I don't know if they burned the bodies in secret or just dumped them in the lake. Both seem equally likely. I didn't know if it was a reflection on their status, or that they didn't want to call attention to how many apprentices died in the Harrowing. Mages who died did receive services, though. I'd attended more than one for older teachers through the years. I was able to recognize the passage the priest was reading.

_"My Maker, know my heart. Take from me a life of sorrow. Lift me from a world of pain. Judge me worthy of Your endless pride."_

I glanced around. A man in his middle age was sitting not far from me. He looked to be struggling against tears. I was surprised he would fight so hard not to show his grief at a funeral of all places. I could hear a woman crying behind me, loudly. Glancing back I saw she was alone, arms wrapped around herself. I recognized the posture, I'd seen it on people who lost very good friends before. I'm sure I'd been in the same position myself.

Hoping I was doing the right thing I got up and moved, sitting next to her and putting a hand on her shoulder. Within seconds she latched on to me, sobbing into my robes. I put an arm around her and she remained like that for the duration of the service. "_O Maker, hear my cry: Seat me by Your side in death. Make me one within Your glory. And let the world once more see Your favor." _The ceremony was drawing to a close.

The woman crying into my shoulder managed to straighten up, reciting the response along with the rest of us. _"For You are the fire at the heart of the world and comfort is only Yours to give."_

The priest nodded, closing her book, and said she would begin again in one hour. I guess so many had died they were just burning bodies nonstop and going through the funerary rites over and over.

"I'm sorry," the woman said after the priest left. "I don't even know you."

"It's all right," I assured her. "You looked like you could use someone. That's why I moved."

She sniffed, nodding. "Thank you," she said. "My… my husband and I, we're both knights in the service of Bann Ceorlic. He was in one of the first scouting parties…" she put a hand over her mouth.

"I'm sorry for your loss," I said, understanding what she was saying. It certainly explained her grief.

"Thank you," she said. "Who did you…?"

"A… friend," I said, not quite sure how else to put it. In truth, I wasn't entirely sure _why_ I came. I didn't know Daveth very well, and I knew Jory even less. I did know enough to realize Daveth had no family to speak of, though, and knew the other Grey Wardens about as well as I did. It seemed wrong that no one would mourn for him, so I figured I should. I knew anyone who asked was to be told they were sent home, preserving the Grey Warden secrets, so I didn't want to elaborate.

"Well, I'm sorry for your loss as well," she said. "And thank you." She stood up. "I should get back to work, though. I've been here for three services so far. He wouldn't…" she sighed. "I don't want his death to be in vain." She looked at me. "You're a Grey Warden, aren't you?" I nodded, not sure how she knew that. But… all the Circle mages were old, perhaps everyone just figured it by default. "Do _you_ think we can beat these bastards?" She seemed to believe I would have some sort of special insight into that. I had no idea, to be honest. Perhaps the older Wardens did, but I was no more knowledgeable than I'd been before the Joining.

"Absolutely," I said quickly, not believing it entirely but figuring she was just looking for some reassurance. She nodded and left.

I got up, walking past people lingering after the last service and early arrivals for the next. Alistair was just getting up from a place in the last bench. I nodded to him. "It seemed like someone should be here," he said with a shrug. "At home I guess they usually have a service, but since we're here…"

"Yeah," I said. "I was thinking the same thing."

"How are you holding up?" Alistair asked as we walked. We were both keeping our distance from each other. I reminded myself he was probably just as uncomfortable after our argument earlier as I was.

"I'm fine," I said. "I don't really feel any different."

"You don't _have_ to be, you know," he said. "Fine, I mean. No one will think any less of you if you're upset. We've all been through the same thing, after all. And… I know you were, um, friends with Daveth…" He looked embarrassed saying that.

"We didn't know each other very well," I admitted. "We got along. I feel bad for him. He probably would have been a better Grey Warden than I will."

"I still can't believe Duncan killed Jory…" Alistair said.

"Jory pulled a weapon on him. He didn't have a choice," I said. "What could he do, say 'oh, ok, go on and leave'? Everyone in camp would know the crazy Grey Wardens tried to make him drink darkspawn blood in like two seconds." I shook my head. "I mean, if Duncan told me I had all that to look forward to I think I would have jumped out of the boat and tried swimming back to the tower, even if they did chop my head off the second I reached land." Well, probably not. But maybe.

"No, I know," he agreed. "It was just pretty brutal to see. I'm glad I don't have to make those decisions." He glanced at me. "Although you apparently have no problem with it. Would you really have attacked him?"

"If Duncan needed help? Of course."

"Look, about earlier," he said, stopping at the edge of our campsite. I raised an eyebrow. "We're… probably never going to agree on that."

"No, I don't think we will," I said.

"It doesn't impact either of us anymore, though. We're both… outside that system. We're really the same thing, now. According to the Chantry I'm not a templar, but I have the same skills as one. Just like how, according to them, you're a Grey Warden, not a mage. So how about we just… agree to disagree and promise to never speak of it again?"

"That sounds like a good plan," I said. I'd rather he _not_ think mages are just abominations waiting to happen, since I didn't know if that was _all_ mages and included me, but not arguing was good. And Duncan almost definitely wouldn't want us at each other's throats.

"Good," he said, walking towards the campfire. "There's really not so many of us that I want to start making enemies among the Wardens. I'd rather be friends."

"Me too." We both took seats on a bench near the fire.

Kit walked over, squeezing between us on the bench. "Has peace been declared?" he laughed. My cheeks colored, realizing how many people must already know about my argument with Alistair. Hopefully they wouldn't dislike me immediately because of it.

I then realized I could smell brandy on Kit. After fighting darkspawn for the first time, watching two people die, the Joining itself which still made my chest clench whenever I thought of the dream, and the funeral I could _really_ use a drink. Or several drinks.

"Got any more of that brandy?" I asked, smiling at him.

"A whole bottle!" He disappeared into a tent.

"How can you tell what he was drinking?" Alistair said.

"By the smell. I love brandy. My best friend and I found a whole case forgotten in a storeroom once, we'd sneak in and drink maybe a bottle a week…" I trailed off, thinking of Jowan off alone in Ferelden somewhere and feeling sad. "Well, it was nice," I finished lamely.

"Did… something happen to her?" Alistair asked.

"Him. And… sort of, yeah. I think he's all right now, though. Hopefully." Kit returned and handed me a bottle. I broke open the wax seal and took a generous swig. "Thanks," I said.

"Just don't tell Duncan," he said. "The battle could be called at any moment. If he catches us drinking … oh, not good."

"Don't worry about it," I told him. "I know how to sober people. So… remind me before you go to sleep and you shouldn't even have a hangover when you get up."

"What spell is _that_?" Alistair said.

"I don't think it has a real name. Everyone knew it, though."

We passed the bottle between the three of us silently. "Where _is_ Duncan?" I hadn't seen him since the meeting.

"He snuck past when you two were declaring a mage/templar truce," Kit laughed. "Said he didn't want to interrupt that and went to sleep."

Alistair was the first to bow out of drinking. He swayed on his feet walking over to me. "Ok…mage. Do… magic." I laughed and raised my hand to his head. He blinked a few times with surprise. "Now _that_ is an odd sensation," he remarked. He thanked me and stepped into a nearby tent. I decided I would keep going until I could close my eyes without seeing the archdemon or there was nothing left _to_ drink, whichever came first. I suspected we would be throwing away an empty bottle by the end of the evening.

* * *

_Poor Daveth. I hated having to kill him off. _

_Chant of light/in-game dialogue is bioware, obvs._

_Thanks for reading and reviewing!  
_


	12. Stealthy as a fireball in a library

I wasn't sure how much longer Kit and I sat drinking by the fire, or when we decided to stop. I do know I woke up to the sound of yelling and people outside. It didn't sound like a pre-battle panic, though, merely the noise of thousands of people going about their day in a massive army camp, so I supposed the darkspawn hadn't made their move yet. Stretching, I accidentally kicked over my bag.

"Oh… damn," someone said near me. I sat up with a start. Oh damn indeed. Kit was staring at me with something close to horror. "Did we…?"

"I have no idea," I admitted. I looked under the blanket. "Um. I'm going to say probably, though." It seemed highly unlikely I would invite a guy into my tent, strip, and simply fall asleep. Even if I was too drunk to remember anything.

"I didn't… do anything horrid, did I? I swear, I didn't share that brandy just to take advantage of you." He groaned, looking painfully guilty.

"If anything, I probably took advantage of you," I said, remembering the odd mood I was in yesterday.

"Oh, I doubt that," he said.

"I'm perfectly capable of it," I said. He looked neither convinced nor reassured. "Look, is this a… problem for you? Assuming you _didn't_ take advantage of me?"

"Well, no," he said.

"Well, it's not a problem for me, either. So… there. No reason to be all… upset." I shrugged and he nodded, this time looking relieved. "We can talk more later if you want, but we should probably get moving for now. I think we overslept." We both dressed quickly and left my tent. Why he would automatically assume he took advantage of me I had no idea, but talking about it when everyone was getting up and ready all around us didn't seem like the best plan.

Nodding to Alistair, who was milling around outside talking to someone I didn't recognize, I went off to get cleaned up. Washing my robes from the previous day as well as the ones Daveth had given me, which smelled like darkspawn from being in my pocket, I returned to my tent, laying everything out to dry.

A cry went up not long after lunch that the darkspawn were massing on the edge of the wilds. Faster than I thought possible we were tearing down camp. We were to bring everything since no one knew if we would return here. Duncan sent a message that Alistair and I were to meet him in the King's camp right away. After wishing some of the others luck, he and I ran through the camp. "Do you know what this is about?" Alistair asked me.

"Yeah, but you won't like it," I said.

"Oh. Well good."

Duncan was waiting for us. "You heard the plan," he said to me. "You and Alistair will go to the Tower of Ishal and ensure the beacon is lit."

"What?" Alistair said, obviously angry. "I won't be in the battle?"

"This is by the king's personal request, Alistair. He specifically asked that the two of you light the beacon so Teyrn Loghain's men know when to charge."

"So he wants _two_ Grey Wardens standing up there holding the torch? Just in case, right?" It was fairly clear from his tone that Alistair thought I should be the one lighting the beacon so he could join the others.

"I agree with Alistair," I said. "We should be in the battle. I could send up a fireball from anywhere at the right time."

"That is not your choice," Duncan said, sounding annoyed. "If King Cailan asks the Grey Wardens to ensure the beacon is lit, then the Grey Wardens will be there. We must do whatever it takes to destroy the darkspawn, and not all jobs are exciting."

"I get it, I get it," Alistair said, sounding resigned. "But just so you know, if the king ever asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold I'm drawing the line. Darkspawn or no."

"I don't know, that could be a _great_ distraction," I mused, giggling as I tried to picture it.

"Can you imagine? Me shimmying down the darkspawn line? We could just kill them when they rolled around laughing!" I did laugh then, nearly to the point of tears, as I pictured Alistair doing just that. For some reason in my imagination the dress had an obnoxious floral print. And a matching bonnet. We both continued snickering until Duncan cleared his throat, sighing as we fell silent.

He explained where the tower was, and said Alistair would know the signal for when we had to light the beacon. Warning us that we only had about an hour, Duncan told us we would need to rush. "Remember, you are both Grey Wardens. I expect you to be worthy of that title."

"Duncan," Alistair said, sounding suddenly nervous. "May the maker watch over you."

"May he watch over us all," Duncan said, his voice grim, before he ran off to join the others.

Alone, Alistair looked at me and sighed. "Sorry," I offered. "If it makes you feel any better, the king's exact words were 'let's send the best,' before asking for you by name." I shrugged. "I'm apparently 'and the new Grey Warden,' though."

"I wonder why he asked for you," Alistair mused. "No offense."

"None taken. I saw him and Duncan give each other a look, though. I think Duncan did want to keep _me_ out of the battle." I shrugged. "Maybe he thinks I'd just get in the way, or I'd die too fast to be useful."

"I'm sure that isn't it," Alistair said, obviously trying to sound reassuring. "But, we'd better just get to the tower. Those dusty stairs won't climb themselves." I nodded and we headed through the camp. Chaos seemed to reign over everything once we reached the bridge. My eyes went wide, watching balls of fire sailing through the air, with people screaming and running everywhere I looked. Alistair gave me a shove. "We need to get to the beacon!" he shouted so I could hear him over the noise. "The king needs Loghain to charge!"

I nodded and followed him across the bridge. Once we cleared it we dropped from a run to a walk. After all, it wouldn't take us an hour to climb the stairs.

Alistair stopped in his tracks, holding a hand up. Not paying attention I walked straight into him. "Ow," I muttered, rubbing my nose where it smacked into his armor.

"Darkspawn," he said quickly. "Best be on your guard." He unsheathed his blade. I didn't sense anything, but followed suit grabbing my staff.

Two of Loghain's men ran out, screaming for help. "The tower's been overrun," one said.

We ran forward, finding the way to the tower doors blocked by dozens of darkspawn. Cursing, I began to attack. "We'll be late," I shouted.

"Well what can we do?" Alistair replied. We were standing nearly back to back, working our way across the yard. He must have been beheading something since I heard him yell "down you go!" and saw the head in question roll by a moment later.

"I don't know," I replied, hitting a genlock with lightning. It shot an arrow at me, but my magical shield deflected it. "Aw, have to do better than that, you bastard!" I yelled before singing it a final time, watching the body collapse.

"We'll just have to go as fast as we can," he said, knocking a hurlock to the ground with his shield and shoving his sword into the monster's neck.

"I know," I said. "Just wish we could get word to Duncan." Three genlocks charged towards us. I reached out, freezing them in place. He managed to smash each of them in turn with one massive swing of his blade.

"Well, we _can't_," Alistair said, kicking the pile of genlock chunks. "So we're just going to have to… do it ourselves, I guess." He looked annoyed with the situation. I couldn't blame him, I felt the same way. One of Loghain's men should have run to warn the front lines first thing.

We looked around. The yard was clear. "Come on," I shouted to the two survivors among Loghain's men. "The two of us can't clear the whole tower ourselves!"

They exchanged a glance and followed us up the massive stairs. "_An army couldn't clear this tower, she thinks four of us will?"_

"_Bloody crazy Grey Wardens."_

We walked into a large room, within seconds we were knocked back as flames shot up around us. "Trap!" Alistair shouted. I raised my hand, summoning as much snow and cold as I could manage. Fortunately it was enough to douse the fire.

"They set _traps_?" I said. "I didn't think they were that smart!"

"Neither did I," he replied. "The last blight was four hundred years ago, though. Records are patchy, all we know is they get smarter when an archdemon is leading them."

"Great," I said. I had no idea how to detect a trap. Since Alistair seemed about a stealthy as a fireball in a library I would have bet he couldn't, either.

We fought our way through the first level and made it to the second relatively intact. I had a bandage wrapped around my arm, and he had one on the back of his neck, but all things considered I was impressed with how far we had gotten. "What," Alistair said, smashing a hurlock back with his shield, "are all these darkspawn," he swung at the prone figure, "doing ahead of the horde?" Its head rolled across the floor.

I aimed at a genlock archer with my staff. "Weren't you _just _complaining," an arrow grazed my arm. "Ow. You'll die for that!" I screamed at the darkspawn archer. Lightning sent it flying back. "Just complaining about not getting to fight?" I finished, examining my arm. "Really not enjoying this bleeding thing," I muttered, trying a healing spell. It closed the skin, but everything still felt somewhat… wrong. At least I wasn't bleeding, though. Wait, no, I was. Under my skin. Fantastic. I sighed, I could deal with that later.

"Hey, you're right!" Alistair said with a chuckle, using his shield to deflect another arrow before it hit me. We ran closer to the archers. "I guess there is a silver lining, if you think about it," he said as we crossed the room.

I froze as many as I could at once. Alistair ignored them, focusing on the ones still attacking us, so I experimentally hit one with my staff. "Oh hey," I said, as it shattered. "That's handy!"

"It is," he agreed, after dealing with the last of the darkspawn in the room. "But… at any rate we really need to hurry. Everyone's counting on _us_ to light this signal fire. Teyrn Loghain is waiting for it to charge!" I nodded and we ran for the stairs, making sure Loghain's men were still with us. They had been useful, although I couldn't help but notice Alistair and I were doing the bulk of the work. I suppose that was our job, though.

On the next level we found a room full of darkspawn. Quite a festive change from the previous rooms, which had also been full of... darkspawn. But, this room also had half a dozen dogs still trapped in their cages, desperately trying to break free to fight. I ran over, triggering the cage release Alistair pointed out. We instantly had half a dozen enormous barking allies with jaws that could crush a darkspawn's throat in one bite. With their aid we made it through that floor faster than any others. I took a moment to dig through the footlockers in a few side rooms. "_What_ are you _doing_?" Alistair said. "We need to hurry."

"We also need health poultices," I said, handing them over, "and lyrium," I added as I pocketed the blue potions. He took a poultice and immediately applied it to an untreated injury, sighing as the elfroot worked on the area to numb it.

"All right," Alistair conceded. "We do need those things."

We trudged up the stairs to the final level. "Maker's breath," I grumbled. "This is worse than the hike to the Harrowing chamber. Did they really need to make the ceilings three times normal height?"

"Maybe the Tevinter magisters were tall?" Alistair suggested.

"I think we'd have heard something if they were _twenty feet_ tall!"

"Point," he said, opening the door at the top of the stairs. "Oh…. Maker…" he gasped.

"This is… bad," I said in agreement.

A… something was in front of us, one of the few survivors of Loghain's men clutched in an enormous hand. No… not a survivor anymore, as the… whatever that was bit his head off, chewing thoughtfully and slowly.

"We… do we have to kill _that_?" I whispered.

"Well, see the wood behind him?" Alistair replied. I nodded. "That's the beacon."

"Oh goody," I said.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Nope," I said.

"Me neither. Let's go."

We ran forward. I cast an ice spell, hollering with relief and joy to see whatever that was didn't resist it. "Keep doing that!" Alistair screamed as he attacked with his sword. Attempts to smash it were utter failures on both our parts. I turned my back quickly, sending a blast of flame at the beacon. We were already late, waiting until this thing was dead wouldn't make much sense. A moment later I was sailing through the air, head first towards the flaming beacon. I shrieked and managed to put my arms out, catching the edge of the opening. It didn't stop my boots and the hem of my robe from being singed, but it was better than my head going up like a torch.

"It _kicked _me!" I shrieked, turning and freezing it again.

"Hey!" Alistair shouted. "This arm? I really like it. It holds my shield. I _need _my shield! Watch it with the ice!"

"Sorry, sorry," I said. He shook off his arm, mostly immune to the effects of my magic thanks to his templar background. Fortunately for him it was just uncomfortably cold, not frozen solid. I aimed lightning at the monster stepping back when it started moving again. Reaching into my pocket I groaned. "Problem!" I yelled. "No spells from me for a bit!"

"Lyrium?" he replied.

"Hey, why didn't I think of that?" I said, fighting with nothing but the arcane bolts of energy my staff could throw off. "Oh, wait, I did. I'm _out_."

He looked from me to the enormous darkspawn, shrugged, and charged towards it. A moment later Alistair was jumping through the air, landing sword-first on the beast's neck. It tumbled backwards and he wrenched the blade before pulling it out and hopping down. "I can't _believe_ that worked," he said, looking amazed.

"Neither can I!" I agreed. "That was _awesome!_"

"And we're still alive!" he said, looking almost as shocked as he did pleased. We ran over to the nearest window. Before either of us could look out to catch Loghain's men charging the door burst open.

I turned in time to see dozens of darkspawn pouring in. "Oh," I said, looking down and seeing three arrows sticking out of my chest. A fourth hit me while I stared at the blood. Groaning, I watched the floor rush towards me.

* * *

I could hear someone moving around near me, in the way people do when they're trying to be quiet. A chill hit me as air touched bare skin. I opened my eyes to see the dark haired girl we met in the ruins of the old Warden tower bent over me, peeling back a bandage from my ribs. Nodding slightly she discarded it. I must have groaned since she looked up at my face. "Ah, your eyes finally open," she said. "Mother shall be pleased."

"Morrigan?" I said. "Where am I? What happened to the darkspawn?"

She gave me a concerned look and checked something on my head. "You were injured and Mother rescued you. Do you not remember?"

She slowly explained to me that her mother, who apparently wished to speak with me as soon as possible, had rescued 'my friend' and I from the tower and tended to our injuries. My friend, who I confirmed was Alistair, had been healed for several days and was suspicious of me ever recovering.

I tried to stand, panicked when I realized how long I had been out. Everyone must have assumed we died! Or even worse, that we ran away! She put a hand on my shoulder, forcing me back down. "The man who was to respond to your signal quit the field," she said quietly. "The darkspawn won your battle. Those he abandoned… were massacred." I gasped, putting my hands to my mouth. "Your friend, he is not taking it well," she added, in a tone that implied _so please don't join him in hysterics._

"So… the Grey Wardens, the King?"

"All dead." She handed me my robes, which were clean, mended, and folded.

I took a deep shuddering breath. I felt dizzy and nauseous.

"All right, I'll go… talk to your mother and let Alistair know I'm alive," I said, pulling my robes on. She gestured to my pack and staff in the corner, I grabbed both. "Thank you for all your help," I added.

She actually looked surprised. "I… you are welcome," she said. "Though Mother did most of the work. I am no healer." She announced she would make something to eat as I opened the door.

"See," an elderly voice said. "Here is your fellow Grey Warden. You worry too much, young man."

Alistair was looking out over a small swamp pond. He turned when she spoke, gasping out "you're alive!" His eyes were red and wet, the bloodshot puffy look of someone who had been very upset for a very long time. Seeing his condition I put a hand to my mouth and realized the tears _I _had been struggling to keep back broke through. With a sob I launched myself at the only other person who seemed to care about how much we lost, wrapping my arms around Alistair's waist and crying into his armor. He awkwardly put an arm around me, patting my shoulder.

"Sorry," I said, embarrassed as I pulled away from him after a moment. I wiped my eyes on my sleeve and tried to regain my composure.

He was doing the same and shrugged. "It's all right," he said. "I thought you were dead for sure."

"I'm not," I said. "I'm not even hurt now, thanks to Morrigan's mother."

"They're all dead," he said. I nodded, already knowing. "Duncan's dead," Alistair said, voice cracking. I think I might have made another sobbing noise at that. "All the Grey Wardens. The king. Everyone's dead. Everyone but us." He looked back at the water. "This doesn't seem real. It's like a nightmare I keep hoping to wake up from. And if it wasn't for Morrigan's mother we'd be dead, too, on top of that tower."

"Do not talk about me as if I am not present, lad," the old mage said.

I was surprised to see Alistair actually looked embarrassed at that. But, maybe having his life saved was giving him a new outlook on apostates. "I didn't mean…" he said, shrugging. "What _do _we call you? You've never told us your name."

She laughed at that, sounding more than a little crazed. "Names are pretty but useless," the woman said. Well, that was certainly not true. If it wasn't for names we'd spend half our day going 'hey you. No, you. No, the other you, with the brown hair. No, the _long_ brown hair. Yeah, you!' Names were _very_ useful. "The Chasind folk call me Flemeth," she went on. "I suppose that will do."

We both gasped at that. _Flemeth?_ Even I'd heard the legend, as sheltered as we were from stories of outside magic in the tower. The lovely Flemeth, who left her husband the Bann Conobar for a poet that stole her heart until they were betrayed under a flag of truce. It was a well known Ferelden legend. They said she called upon a spirit for vengeance, killing the army with its aid before running to hide within the wilds. Over the years she gave birth to a legion of powerful daughters that could kill with a thought until the hero Cormac found and defeated her.

"_The_ Flemeth," Alistair said, clearly thinking the same thing I was. "Flemeth of legend? Maker's breath, Daveth was _right_, you're _the _Witch of the Wilds, aren't you?"

She snorted in derision. "And what does that mean? I know a bit of magic, and it has served you both well, has it not?"

"Why _did _you save us?" I asked. "Why us?"

"We cannot have _all_ the Grey Wardens dying at once, can we?" she said. "Someone has to deal with the darkspawn, and it has always been the Grey Wardens' duty to unite the lands against a blight. Or did that change when I wasn't looking?" She made a face at the two of us, raising her eyebrow as if challenging us to disagree.

"Of course not," I said. "But…" I looked at Alistair and the ground. I didn't know _how_ to unite the lands! I couldn't even find my way back to the tower from where we were!

"We _were_ fighting the darkspawn," Alistair said, sounding more angry than sad, which was an improvement. Every time he sounded like he was about to cry I almost did, too. If we were both angry we might actually get something done. Well, more than we could if we both sobbed into our hands. "Why would Loghain do this?"

I gasped, finally realizing who had betrayed us. _Loghain _left us to die? The Hero of River Dane let the son of Maric get slaughtered? And not just that, but thousands more, too! He wiped out the entire Ferelden Grey Wardens in one shot! _Why_? Why would Ferelden's greatest hero _abandon_ us? It was his plan we were following! We were late, true... but to just _leave_ everyone? "That _bastard_," I muttered. "And he said I was pretty!" Alistair gave me a look like I was crazy and shook his head, Flemeth ignored me.

"Now _that_ is a good question," she said to Alistair. "Men's hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature." Something in her tone made me shudder. For a moment she looked into the distance and I could truly believe she was hundreds of years old, still filled with rage at her betrayal. "Perhaps he believes the blight is another army, one he can simply outmaneuver?" she said, turning back to us. "Perhaps he does not see the true threat?"

"The archdemon," he said.

"So… we need to find it," I said, hoping he would actually know how.

"By ourselves?" Alistair replied, almost laughing. "The Grey Wardens don't work alone, every blight has been defeated with the armies of half a dozen nations helping them." I was starting to think all the things Duncan said I would learn in the months to come hadn't been told to Alistair yet, either. "And…" he said, shrugging, "I, um, don't know how." Oh. Well, I was right. Normally being right is good, but I kind of wished I hadn't been this time. Neither of us had any idea what to do and, as he patiently explained, no way to reach the other Wardens outside Ferelden, or even root through the papers and records in the Denerim compound. This would certainly be interesting.

"How to kill the archdemon, or how to raise an army?" Flemeth asked. "Those are two very different things."

"Neither?" I offered. "Can… can you help us?" I asked her. If she really was _the_ Flemeth she could probably kill the archdemon without even breaking a sweat.

"An old lady who lives in the wilds?" she laughed. "What do I know of blights and darkspawn?" _Um, more than either of us_, I thought, but bit my tongue. It wasn't wise to argue with anyone as powerful as her.

"Well, whatever Loghain's thinking or planning… he made no secret that he thinks the darkspawn are a minor threat. I don't think he believes this is even a true blight!"

"You're right," I agreed. "The king didn't, either."

"We have to warn everyone!" I agreed with Alistair, but again, _how?_

Flemeth was dismissive of that idea, asking who would believe us over Loghain. "Unless you plan to convince him of his mistake?" she laughed.

"Well… could we?" I said, looking at Alistair. "I know it's all supposed to be secret, but maybe if we explained how we were _sure_ this was a blight…?"

Alistair raised an eyebrow, looking at me like I was an idiot. "He just betrayed his _king_ and left him to die, his _best friend's _son. Do you think he _cares_?" I felt my stomach lurch. I'd been hoping until then there was some reasonable explanation but... no, Alistair was right. He made a face. "Maybe he hopes to gain the throne… his daughter is queen." He paused, looking thoughtful. "No one will stand for this murder once they find out. If Arl Eamon knew he'd be the first calling for Loghain's execution!"

"The Arl of Redcliffe?" I said, remembering Duncan mentioning he hadn't joined the battle but could have if Cailan would wait. Alistair nodded, telling me how he knew him, and knew him to be a good man. Suddenly excited, he pointed out that the Arl still had his full complement of troops since he hadn't been at Ostagar.

"Is there anyone else we can call on?"

"The treaties!" Alistair said, looking thrilled. "They're in my pack! The dwarves, elves, and mages are required to provide us with aid!" Even Flemeth looked pleased at that, pointing out that the treaties and Arl Eamon's men together would certainly form an army. "So… can we do this?" he said to me, looking nervous. "Go from one end of the country to the other and build an _army_?"

"Isn't that what Grey Wardens do?" I said, still nervous but trying to sound confident. It wouldn't be long before Alistair figured out I couldn't cook, could barely set up or take down my own tent, and wasn't able to use a map to guide myself out of so much as a burlap sack. But I didn't have to announce all of that immediately.

"We have to try," he said. I nodded in agreement.

I thanked Flemeth for all her help and she actually demurred. "No, thank _you_," the old mage said. "You two are the Grey Wardens here, not I. Morrigan came out, announcing that dinner was ready.

"Will we have two guests for dinner… or none?" she asked, clearly hoping we would leave soon. It was at this point that Flemeth announced we would be leaving, and told Morrigan she would leave with us.

"That's an excellent idea!" I blurted out, excited to have someone to help and for the chance to get to know the strange girl better. Maybe we would be friends? She certainly wouldn't look at me like I was about to turn into an abomination when she thought I wasn't paying attention, like Alistair had been doing up until we fell in the tower. Maybe we could even share spells? But then I saw the horror on her face. "But, if Morrigan doesn't _want_ to join us…" I added, trying to be diplomatic and feeling my hopes dashed. The two apostates argued. Morrigan was demanding to know why she had no say in this. I could understand her frustration. And I suspected when she learned more of Alistair's past she would be even less happy than I had been to find out. Flemeth slowly convinced her of how much help she could be to us, and how massive our task was.

Alistair protested, unsurprisingly, but a sharp comment from Flemeth about how if he didn't want help from illegal mages then she should have left us in the tower quieted him. I offered assurances to Flemeth that we understood what she was giving us and would make sure Morrigan didn't come to harm. I wasn't entirely sure on the second part, but we could certainly try.

She sighed, walking over to us. "I am at your disposal, Grey Wardens." She suggested a village not far from the Wilds as our first destination, saying we could find both information and supplies there. Noticing Alistair's look of mixed annoyance and horror, she added "or I can simply be your silent guide."

"No, I prefer you speak your mind," I insisted. After all, she wasn't our _slave_ or anything. If she was going to help us it would be as our equal, regardless of whatever her mother had in mind. And if Alistair didn't like that, well, we could scream about it for hours, but I'd probably win. I was good at winning arguments, Jowan had always told me that.

"You will regret saying that!" Flemeth called out, laughing. That led to Morrigan and Flemeth snapping back and forth at each other.

"Do you _really_ want to take her along just because her mother says so?" Alistair whispered, not very quietly.

"No, I want to take her because we need all the help we can get. There are _two_ of us!"

He sighed. "Duncan always said the Grey Wardens have taken allies anywhere they could find them," he said. "I suppose we can't afford to turn away _any_ help that's offered given the state we're in now." I blinked up at him in shock. I had been expecting an actual argument.

"I am _so_ pleased to have your approval," she said drily.

"So… I guess we should get going?" I said, hoping to distract them from fighting. Morrigan nodded, turning on her heel. Calling a final thanks to Flemeth, Alistair and I followed her daughter into the Wilds.

* * *

_Coping with a crisis: they clearly missed that lesson. Although I never much understood Alistair's apology for falling apart. It seems like the only time he really lost it was when the Warden was unconscious. It isn't like he could get much else accomplished then, so what's wrong with a bit of a freakout? _

_Thanks so much to everyone who reads and reviews!  
_


	13. A very dubious honor

"Stop," Morrigan demanded. Alistair and I did, looking at her curiously. She turned and walked towards him, smearing something across his forehead.

"Hey!" he said. "What _is_ that?"

"Mother made it," she replied. "So we can get _you_ past the darkspawn."

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused. Once she said that Alistair actually seemed to calm down, so her words made sense to him at least.

"You hadn't been told yet," Alistair said. "There wasn't time. You know how we can sense darkspawn?"

"So you've said," I replied. "I haven't noticed anything, though."

"No, it takes a few weeks at least," he said. "Once you can its unmistakable. Unfortunately it works both ways: they can also sense us." He made a face, clearly not happy about that part. "I haven't been a Grey Warden very long so we shouldn't have a problem sneaking past smaller groups. The big groups, or the smarter darkspawn- emissaries and the like, will detect me. And, eventually, you."

"Oh," I said. "Well, the salve Morrigan has should be helpful, then. We can just use it all the time! It smells kind of minty, so that isn't bad." He looked comforted by the idea, too.

"I have enough to get us through the wilds," she announced. "Mother did not choose to share the recipe with me." So much for that idea. Morrigan looked apologetic, I got the impression there was quite a bit Flemeth didn't 'share' with her daughter.

"What sort of skills do you have?" I asked as she led us around a marshy area. Alistair didn't seem to have any desire to talk, understandably so. I didn't much feel like it, either, to be honest but I didn't want to seem rude.

"I have studied history and your Grey Warden treaties," she said, "and of course, I know a few spells. I am nowhere near as powerful as my mother, though"

"You can't heal, though?" I asked.

"No, as I said, I am no healer," she replied. "Minor injuries, perhaps, but anything severe enough to _require_ a healer would be well beyond my skills."

"Same here," I said.

"Wait," Alistair said, stopping and looking at us. "You're _both_ mages." I nodded. "And _neither_ of you can heal?" We both responded that he was correct. "Oh. Well that's _great._ Really. Just fantastic." He sighed and fell silent again.

It was two days before we actually reached the end of the Wilds. On the third night since leaving Flemeth's hut we made camp in an actual clearing, on dry land, for the first time. I built the fire and Alistair disappeared, returning after an hour or so with a rabbit. "Do you want to do the cooking?" he asked, offering it to me. I was clearly supposed to agree to that since he did the hunting. Up until that night we had been eating the dried food Morrigan brought with her.

I looked at it and bit my lip. "I can _try_," I said. "I don't really know how, though."

He sighed and shook his head, sitting down and pulling out a knife. I watched him preparing the rabbit, which he eventually skewered and put over the fire. "There," Alistair said. "Now we just wait until it's done."

He sat by the fire, putting his head in his hands. I got up and walked around the fire, sitting near him. "What do you need?" he asked, looking exhausted and much older than he had when we first met days ago.

"Do you want to talk?" I asked him. "About Duncan, I mean. About what happened."

"You don't have to do that," Alistair said. "I know you didn't know him very long."

"That doesn't mean I don't mourn him, too," I said. "He saved from the tower," I said. "And he gave me freedom. I could never have thanked him enough for all that."

Alistair nodded. "I didn't handle it very well, did I?" he asked. "He warned me right from the beginning that this could happen. Even on a _good_ day being a Warden isn't a safe job. Any of us could die in battle."

"Yeah, he warned me, too," I said. "It doesn't really make it easier now that it's happened, though."

"It doesn't," he agreed. "But I shouldn't have lost it like that. We've got so much riding on us. I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize," I said. "I haven't been much better, and really, you lost it when I was unconscious. It isn't as though we could have accomplished much then what with my massive internal bleeding or whatever."

He looked relieved when I said that. "I know we'll never find his… his body," he said, face twisting. "But I'd still like to do _something_ for him, once all this is over. You know, if _we're_ still alive." He sighed, not sounding very hopeful of that. "He didn't have any family to speak of."

"He had you," I offered. "When he talked about you it sounded more like he was talking about a son than anything else." Duncan hadn't mentioned Alistair many times when we traveled, but I overheard him talking with the other Wardens on my first day out of the tower, and he had come up in passing. He seemed amused by Alistair's quirks and told me we would probably get along. He neglected to inform me of the templar thing, but not being a mage or a templar he may not have even realized that could be an issue.

"He talked about me?"

"A couple times," I said. "Not much, but he smiled when he did." I chuckled. "He said he thought we would get along." Alistair raised an eyebrow at that. I shrugged. "I guess we share a very dubious honor," I offered. "Only two recruits to ever ask him if the Wardens had a secret stash of griffons somewhere. _Ever_. He was _very_ clear about that."

"They could come back," Alistair said quickly.

"Dragons did," I replied in agreement. He managed a small smile at that.

"Does it sound stupid that I feel like I abandoned him?" Alistair asked after a few seconds. "Part of me just wishes I had been there in the battle with him. And…" his voice cracked. "Oh Maker, if he didn't know what happened to us, if his last thought was that we were late with the beacon because we _screwed up_," Alistair put his head in his hands, a look of despair on his face.

"He had to know," I said. "There were men all over that bridge and outside the tower. At least one had to have the good sense to run and tell the front lines. I'm _sure_ he knew." I was trying to convince myself as much as Alistair.

"You're probably right," he said, looking relieved.

"And it doesn't sound stupid at all," I added. "Feeling like you abandoned him, I mean."

"But then," Alistair said, "if I _was_ in the battle, I'd also be…"

"Yeah," I agreed. "He saved both our lives sending us to the tower.

"I know," Alistair said, sounding slightly disturbed by that. "I think he came from Highever, he mentioned it a few times."

"That's what he told me, too," I agreed. "That he was born there."

"Maybe I'll go up there someday and, I don't know, put something up in his honor."

"I'd like to go, too," I said. "If you don't mind me tagging along."

"No, I'd like that," he said. "So would Duncan." He offered me a small smile. "Thank you," Alistair said. "It was good to talk about it. I feel a little better now."

"So do I," I admitted. "He was my friend, too."

"That's good to hear," Alistair said. "I'm glad I won't be the only one to remember him well."

"I'm sure a lot more people than just us will," I said. He nodded, getting up to check the food.

"Well, that's dinner," Alistair offered, putting the rabbit on a plate from his pack. It was, in truth, our only plate. Morrigan wandered over and made a face.

"What have you done to that rabbit?" she demanded.

"Cooked it," Alistair said.

"You have done far more than cooked it. 'Tis now much closer to charcoal than food."

"I never claimed to be a good cook!" he replied, sounding frustrated. She looked at me.

"I never had to cook in the tower," I said. "I haven't quite managed to learn yet. I can make coffee. Oh, and breakfast porridge."

"Fine," she snapped. "I will cook _for now_, but I expect both of you to pay attention and learn. I am not a servant sent to wait on you."

"No, that's fine," I said. "I _want_ to learn. I hate not being able to do things for myself. Thank you." She nodded and took a portion of the charred rabbit, disappearing to her tent. I couldn't help but notice she set it up very far from us, and had her own campfire. I didn't know if she was avoiding Alistair, me, or both of us equally.

We ate slowly, sharing the plate. Since we didn't have so much as a single fork we both ate with our fingers, occasionally using the knives from our belts on very tough pieces. "I have to admit," Alistair said after a moment, "this is pretty awful."

"It's not _that_ bad," I said, not sure how to respond. It was barely even edible, but I was so starved even the bones looked tempting.

"You would have thrown it away if you weren't starving," he said.

"No!" I insisted. "Well… yeah. It's bad. I couldn't do any better, though. I probably would have tried to set it on fire with magic or something."

He actually chuckled at that before leaning over and rooting through his pack. "Here," Alistair said, breaking a chunk off a piece of cheese and passing it to me. I thanked him and took a bite.

"Ooh, this is good," I said.

"Amaranthine cheddar," he replied.

"Fancy," I said. "I didn't even know the place it came from mattered."

"I take cheese _very_ seriously," he said. We sat eating in silence. "So…" Alistair began once the cheese was devoured, speaking slowly. "What happened to you? At the tower?"

Ah, so that's why he shared his fancy cheese with me. "Tons of things," I replied, playing dumb. "I lived there for almost two decades, after all."

"That's _not_ what I mean," Alistair said. "Kit told me you were covered in blood when Duncan brought you out. And you did say something bad would have happened to you if you stayed." He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. "And did I really see him leaving your tent on the last morning at Ostagar?"

"I don't know," I said. "Were you watching my tent? If you were, well, you probably did. Why?"

"I just found it… surprising."

I shrugged. "We had too much to drink. Neither of us even remembered how we ended up there in the morning. I hope it was at least good." He coughed at that, turning bright red.

"Never mind," Alistair said quickly. "_That_ isn't what I wanted to talk about. I don't even know why I asked, I must have gone insane for a brief moment. Now that my sanity has returned, I was actually curious about what happened to you when you left the Circle. You said Duncan had to conscript you; I know he doesn't like to do that very often. And, the blood."

"It wasn't my blood," I said.

"That doesn't make me any less nervous," he said. "You… you're not a maleficar, are you?" Alistair stared at me shifting further away on the bench.

"No, I'm not," I said. "If I _was_ I wouldn't have been worried when I ran out of lyrium in that tower, would I?"

"You have a point there," he said, visibly relaxing.

"What _was_ that thing, by the way?"

"An ogre," he said. "They're fairly new, in terms of darkspawn. People have only started seeing them in the last couple hundred years. They didn't even seem to exist in the last blight."

"Lucky us," I said. "It was enormous!"

"You're changing the subject," he replied. "And not very well, I might add. Which probably means you don't want to tell me. That is your right. I'm just curious. And a bit worried."

"I'd rather not talk about it now," I admitted. "I'll tell you soon, though." I would have to tell him before we went to the Circle, at the very least. Letting him find out when the Knight-Commander said something would be pretty horrible.

"All right," he said.

"If it helps I still think I didn't really do anything wrong. They just… disagree. Like, the _right_ thing to do and the _legal_ thing to do aren't the same thing." He gave me a dubious look. "And I can promise I'm not a blood mage, an abomination, or possessed."

"Just make sure it stays that way," he said with a small grin, sighing and climbing to his feet. "I'm going to bed. Will you wake me in a few hours for my watch?" I nodded and he was gone.

Morrigan walked over, sitting not far from me, after he had left. "I _do_ know what he is, you realize," she said. "Even without those absurd uniforms a templar is unmistakable."

"How long have you known?"

"Oh, I suspected immediately," she said. "Mother confirmed it once I returned from guiding you to your camp, though. 'He will need to decide where his loyalty truly lies,' she said."

I nodded. "Well, he's still here, so that's something."

She scoffed. "Despite what you may think Alistair needs you far more than you need him." I wasn't quite sure _how_ that could be the case, but I was too tired to press her for details, though.

"Have you ever been hunted by the Chantry?" I asked her.

"From time to time, yes," Morrigan admitted. "All templar fools like Alistair, though, so you can imagine how successful they were." She chuckled. "Mother would make a game of it. They would come and she would smile, telling me the fun was to begin again."

"She made it a _game_?" I said, shocked. "Weren't you scared?"

"I was a child," Morrigan said. "I found it fun because Mother made it seem so. If she actually did think it such, or if it was simply bravado to reassure me, I will never know." She stretched her legs out. "She warned them once. A warning they inevitably ignored."

"How did you fight them, though? They can counter magic. Is there some shield spell they can't get past or…?"

"No, it is nothing like that," she said. "It is simply a matter of being faster than them, and smarter than them. At times it can be difficult," she admitted. "Hiding has always been the easiest option for me. I would run, leading them into the wilds, and then disappear into the treetops, or under a log. They could never know the land as I do, and inevitably lost sight of me. The templars cannot smite you if they cannot _see_ you. Of course, you must make sure any spells cast are enough to stop them quickly."

"That makes sense," I said.

"You have nothing to worry about, though," she said. "The Chantry cannot touch you so long as you remain a Grey Warden. You know this?"

"I know, and I have no plans to leave," I said. "But I don't know what the future brings. Maybe they'll try and force me back to the Circle if I survive all this. I won't go back there. Never. I want to be prepared."

She looked thoughtful. "You have the added complication of your phylactery, of course." I nodded. "Your Chantry leash gives them no special power over you, only a means by which to find you. Defeat one and you can simply take the phylactery back, smash it, and be free. They have found us, and Mother and I always managed to defeat them. I have alone, as well and I believe you could. No templar has ever returned to tell of what they saw in the Wilds."

"They got what they deserved," I said.

Her eyebrow shot up. "That is a surprising answer, being from the Chantry's Circle as you are."

"Why?" I asked. "It was your life or theirs, I know that. And believe me, having lived among templars has given me more reasons to distrust them than I could list for you now." I glanced back towards Alistair's tent. "All things considered, it could be much worse. He's kind of scared of magic, and I know he's nervous around both of us, but he doesn't seem to _hate _mages automatically. So many of them are… cruel. Brutal. Don't even see us as _people._ I don't get that from Alistair. He didn't join because he was a believer or anything, the Chantry raised him, so maybe he will calm down."

Morrigan seemed surprised by this, but said nothing more on the subject.

"You know the tranquil?" I asked her suddenly.

"I have heard of them. Fortunately I have not been exposed to one in person. I believe I would find it very unsettling. They have no emotions or personality, because their connection to the fade was severed?" I nodded. "_Barbaric_ would not begin to describe such a practice, and that comes from one who lived among the _Chasind_ most of her life." Her words dripped with contempt, mirroring my own feelings on the practice.

"It is," I said. "And they were going to do it to my best friend." I told her what happened. She would understand, after all, she was a mage.

"You truly had no idea he was using blood magic?" Morrigan said once I finished the story, sounding shocked.

"No," I said. "I don't really _care_ though, to be honest. I was more mad about him keeping the secret from me than anything else."

"Blood magic is the refuge of the weak," Morrigan announced. "A crutch for those whose own powers are lacking."

"Fighting for several hours straight and running out of lyrium is a good way to end up riddled with arrows," I countered.

She raised an eyebrow. "Are _you_?"

"No," I said. "But you might recall I did end up riddled with arrows. If I could find a way to learn I think I would do it. I got the impression Duncan expected me to, I suspect that was part of why I was taken, and why he didn't care about what I did at the tower. The Grey Wardens were evidently in need of one mage with extremely flexible morality."

She snorted. "Well, there is always—"

"I'm not an _idiot_," I said. "I'd never bargain with one of them. I really don't feel like sharing my skin with some demon."

"That is a relief to hear," Morrigan said, actually sounding like she was sincere. "Although you may not be an _idiot_, I do find myself questioning your sanity. Were our templar to find out…"

"Well, yeah," I agreed. "There is that." I shrugged. "It's academic at this point. Neither of us really have access to a full magical library or anything where I could learn. Even if the information was in books at the Grey Warden compound we can't go there."

She nodded in agreement, with a warning that I should be careful "lest you wake to find a templar blade in your chest." Eventually Morrigan drifted off to her own tent. I woke Alistair for his watch before climbing into my own tent and falling into a restless sleep dominated by Fade visions of darkspawn and death.

The next day I made breakfast, glad to prove I could do _something _useful. Unfortunately the lack of spoons meant we had to eat it directly from our single pot with flat sticks Morrigan found, which was neither pleasant nor simple. It was well after dawn by the time we set out. We were walking down a dirt road when Alistair put his hand up. "Darkspawn," he said.

I looked, seeing a few charging towards us. Something much smaller was racing ahead of them. "What the…?" I couldn't stop to think about what it was, though, before they were on us.

It was a small group, and we managed to kill them quickly. I was surprised to see how similar Morrigan's compliment of spells was to mine. I had expected something strange and exotic, but that didn't seem to be the case. We dispatched them with added ease since, to everyone's shock, the small figure running ahead of them was a mabari. He quickly joined us in the fight, walking over and sitting immediately in front of me once all the darkspawn were dead. "I remember you," I said, crouching on the road. "Didn't get hurt again, did you boy?" He responded by barking and licking my face. "Hm, guess that's a no."

"I think he's been out here looking for you," Alistair said. "He must have chosen you. Mabari are like that."

"This is _fantastic_!" I announced. "I've always wanted a dog. We weren't allowed pets in the tower, though." I scratched behind his ears.

"You should be honored," Alistair said, actually sounding impressed. "Mabari are very picky about who they imprint on." I couldn't really respond since the dog had knocked me to my back and was standing on me, sniffing my face while I giggled like a fool.

Morrigan scoffed. "Does this mean we're going to have this mangy beast following us around now? _Wonderful_."

"Aw, he's not _mangy," _Alistair said, bending over to pet the dog and helping me up.

"You need a name," I told the dog. "Can I call you Dane?" He barked happily. Alistair burst out laughing.

"You're kidding, right?" he said.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing," he said. We continued on our way.

The next afternoon we reached the village Morrigan had told us about. She was mocking Alistair for being quiet, which didn't seem to make much sense. I mean, he was quiet, but he was moving. It wasn't as if we couldn't leave on time because he was incoherent with grief. "Leave him alone," I said, sighing. The two of them together was proving to be like traveling with children. I half expected them to start shooting lightning at each other and rolling on the ground pulling hair and cursing. After a few more barbs at each other, with Morrigan calling Alistair stupid and Alistair calling Morrigan a bitch, he turned to me.

"_Anyways_, I thought we should decide what we'll do first."

He pulled out the treaties and handed them to me, I sat on the side of the road, looking them over. "What do you think?" I asked as he sat near me.

He shrugged. "I think we should use the treaties. I also think Arl Eamon may be our best bet for help. I don't know what to do first, though. Part of me says we should see the Arl, but then, I also think the treaties are more…" he made a face.

"Grey Warden-y?" I offered. Arl Eamon might be able to help us with the blight, but the treaties were something Duncan intended to use. It felt like that was closer to our actual duty.

"Exactly."

"Why are you leaving it up to me?" I asked.

"I don't know what to do," he said, making a face. "Whatever you decide is fine." That started Morrigan up again, but she stopped after I gave her a dirty look. Huh.

I held up one treaty. "We should go into town and try to find out news," I said. "That would be the tavern, right?" He nodded. "Assuming we don't hear anything major, I say we go to Orzammar first."

"Why Orzammar?" Alistair said, looking surprised.

I'd read one of Brother Genitivi's travel books where he talked about Orzammar. I wasn't an expert, but it had told me a little bit. "Well, dwarves are good warriors, really good, right?" He nodded. They were probably better than humans, but since Alistair was a warrior I didn't want to offend him when we had been getting along so well. "And they're constantly warring with the darkspawn underground, aren't they?"

"Trying to regain their lost territory," he agreed.

"So," I said, "fantastic warriors with tons of experience fighting darkspawn? I think they're the most important allies we can get, and I'll feel better knowing they're on our side right away." Plus, I was _really _curious to visit the underground city, although that didn't seem like a legitimate enough reason to mention it. I looked at the other treaties. "The dalish I don't know anything about, beyond that they're amazing archers. Duncan said they respected the Grey Wardens, even human Grey Wardens, so hopefully that will work out. The Circle…" I made a face.

"What?"

"Would you be willing to go in while I wait on the shore?"

"Oh no," he said. "No way. I don't even know who the First Enchanter _is_. And I was a _templar_. You remember how that mage treated me at Ostagar, if I go in they'll see it as an insult on our part. They won't even want to talk to me, especially if they know the other Grey Warden is a mage."

"Irving's the First Enchanter," I said, refusing to admit he was right. "He's usually pretty nice."

"No," Alistair said. "Look, I don't know what happened, but you're a Grey Warden now. They'll just have to… deal with it." Duncan had said something similar, but I was still nervous.

"And if they try to arrest me, or execute me? What then? Will _you_ defend me from the templars?"

He sighed. "You're the only other Grey Warden in Ferelden. Of _course_ I will. I can't do this alone!" He actually looked completely serious about that. "But they won't, you know. Whatever happened, they can't punish you for it, not anymore. That's the _law_." Well, if he would _really_ be willing to defend me against templars I suppose it wouldn't be fair for him not to know _why_.

I nodded. "Fine, then. I'll go, too. Irving was my mentor, so maybe he'll be more forgiving."

We got up and walked towards town. Bandits on the bridge attacked us before we could enter, claiming they were charging a "refugee tax" to anyone who passed through, fleeing the darkspawn. Red with anger at the idea of profiting from all those people just running for their lives, I kept goading them long after they surrendered until they attacked again.

"Search their pockets," I announced after they were dead.

"_What_?" Alistair said, horrified. Morrigan was already kneeling next to me helping me check the bodies.

"Alistair, we have no food, _one_ pot and _one_ plate, we've been eating with our fingers or _sticks,_ no needles or thread to mend our clothes, no lyrium, no bandages, and no bottles. Morrigan and I can make most potions, but we can't just carry them in our cupped hands across Ferelden. We have _nothing_. And no one to give it to us!" I sighed. "Most of their victims are probably long gone and, well, if we find anyone who says the bandits took their money we can give it back to them."

"All right," he admitted, joining us. "This feels dirty, but you're right. It isn't as though Loghain will be sending us our stipend."

"There may be someone in town willing to reward us for eliminating their bandit problem," Morrigan pointed out.

"Excellent!" I said. "We'll have to check and see who is in charge." I grinned. We might even get enough money to eat in the tavern; that would be nice. A hot meal, and Morrigan wouldn't have to cook for us. With a proper table we could go over everything we knew so far and make some long-term plans, too. Hopefully one of them had a map and the ability to read it. Planning, I decided, was key. If we had a plan instead of blindly stomping off into danger we had a slim chance of actually seeing this through without ending up small sad stains on the road somewhere, crushed under an ogre's foot.

* * *

_So Morrigan says Flemeth gave her something for the darkspawn to 'smell' so they didn't sense Alistair. I always thought why not BATHE in that stuff all the time. So I had to invent a reason why they didn't._

_Updating like mad since, well, I start classes Monday. Odds are updates will be much, much slower then. Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	14. Oh, this will be entertaining

After entering Lothering we discovered the local lord was gone, but we could talk to Ser Bryant in the Chantry. Oh. Well, that was good. Nothing templars love more than a couple of mages wandering free. With a sigh I headed over to the Chantry. _Reward_, I reminded myself. _Hot meal!_ A templar, without his helm, was directing several others. We walked over to him. I couldn't help but notice Alistair and Morrigan standing behind me. I suppose that was their subtle way of saying I would be doing the talking. Brilliant.

"Yes, my lady," he said, sounding wary and exhausted. "Who might you be?" Well, that was a good sign. I'd never had a templar call me 'my lady' before. Usually it was just my name if they knew it, or, more frequently just 'mage.'

"I'm Maggie, and this is Alistair, we're Grey Wardens," I said, deciding that the less said about Morrigan the better.

He shifted on his feet, making a face. "I… see." After introducing himself he looked from me to Alistair and said Teyrn Loghain had declared _us_ traitors to Ferelden, responsible for the king's death. I heard Alistair gasp. I'm sure I did the same.

"We did no such thing!" I said, horrified.

Ser Bryant cleared his throat. "I do not believe the Grey Wardens would be as careless or malicious as the teyrn claims, but either way, there it is." He dropped his voice. "You should be aware, there is a bounty set on any surviving members of your order. The sum is… rather substantial. These are difficult times. To many that might seem appealing, even if they don't believe the charges. It is best you not linger."

I nodded in agreement, still shocked. "_Reward_" Morrigan whispered in my ear, snapping me to attention.

"About those bandits outside the village…" I began. He sighed, immediately assuming we'd been robbed or attacked. "What? No!" I said, interrupting him before he could call over another templar to drive them away. "Did you think the Grey Wardens recruited us to work in their kitchens? We killed the bandits, they're not going to bother anyone anymore."

"All of them?" he said, shocked. "By yourself?"

"Well, the three of us did it. And Dane. Dane took down one of them all by himself." I knelt down, scratching the dog's head. "Didn't you, boy!" He barked happily. The man he had initially called over to drive them off confirmed it.

"Sad it needed to come to that," Ser Bryant mused, "but, they asked for it. Will you accept a small reward for your service?"

"Absolutely," I beamed. "Thank you." I accepted the coins and handed them to Alistair. "Is this enough for food?" I asked him.

"Should be," he said, counting. I heard Morrigan sigh.

"Is there any other help you can offer?" I asked, embarrassed but realizing we wouldn't go very far without doing a bit of begging. He slipped a key in my hand, obviously trying to be sneaky about it.

"This opens the cabinet on the back wall. I can't help you _openly_ with the charges levied, but take whatever you want from there. It's all things we won't be able to bring with us when we flee the darkspawn." After thanking him we walked directly to the cabinet.

"Now _that_ is a real waste," I whispered to Morrigan as we walked away from Ser Bryant.

"What? He paid us and gave us this key. I would think even _Alistair_ could see how useful all that is."

"I'm right here, you know," he snapped. She ignored him.

"Not _that_," I said with a wave of my hand. "And be nice. I mean _him_. Maker's breath, did you see that man? Letting someone who looks like that take a vow of chastity ought to be a crime." I opened the cabinet and squealed. It contained several things we desperately needed. "Oh good," I said. "Forks!"

"'Tis amusing you assume he is sincere in those vows," Morrigan said, grabbing everything her pack could hold. "Men are, ultimately, weak."

"Nah," I disagreed, loading up Alistair's pack and then my own. "He's not one of them. I can tell, he looked me in the eye when he talked and didn't watch either of us walk away. The templars who don't care about their vows will at least sneak a peek at your chest and stare at your backside when you walk away." Speaking of, I looked behind us at the templar. "Wow, look at that. You could bounce a copper off it!" Morrigan took a peek and nodded.

"You… you did _not_ just say that, did you?" Alistair said from behind us. Morrigan twittered with laughter.

"What?" I said, passing him his full bag. "It's true. Both parts are. Tons of the templars were involved with mages without a care in the world for their vows, I grew up in the Circle, I should know. _And_ you could totally bounce a copper off his backside. I mean, wow, he's enough to make me reconsider my stance on templars." I shook my head, packing the last of the supplies into my bag. "The things I could do to that man with an hour, a bed, and a locking door. Maybe not even a bed. What a waste."

"His hair was too long," Morrigan commented.

"Oh no," I said. "That was the very best part." I grinned. "Always nice to have something to grab on to, you know?" I made a gripping gesture with my hands and giggled. Morrigan looked briefly surprised before joining me in laughter.

"I'm just going to go stand… over there," Alistair said, blushing furiously. "Call me when this… discussion is over."

"I think you did that on purpose," Morrigan said after he retreated.

"Did what?" I asked. "What's his problem? Is it because he's a templar? I'm not _really_ going to do anything. I don't make a habit of tempting men to break their vows." I made a face. "Actually, I have a longstanding no-templar rule anyways."

"You do not _know_ what you did?" she said, surprised. "Oh, this will be entertaining." Morrigan laughed again but refused to say anything else.

* * *

Leaning against the rail on a small bridge I groaned. I had started to realize just how bad things were in Lothering. In the last few hours we had managed to calm down a Chasind man who was whipping everyone into a panic, calm his _audience_ down, send a boy who "lost" his mother (likely to the darkspawn but I wasn't about to tell him that) to the Chantry, and even argued with a price gouging merchant. "What a mess," I muttered.

"Must we solve every problem in this town?" Morrigan replied, sounding annoyed.

"If it'll get these people to move north, yes," I replied. "The darkspawn are coming, and if they remain any survivors will spread plague."

"_I _was going to say it's nice to help people," Alistair said. "And if people tell nice stories about us maybe everyone will question the treason and regicide thing. But, well, that too."

Since finding out Arl Eamon was ill from a knight in the Chantry Alistair had seemed lost in thought, so I was glad he had started talking again. While Morrigan and I were stripping the cabinet of everything but the hinges this knight told him the Arl's illness seemed hopeless and they were searching for Andraste's ashes, of all the ridiculous plans. Might as well search for a unicorn at that point if they wanted to chase legends, but it seemed mean to point that out.

"Was it at all necessary to give those elves money, though?" she said.

I sighed. They had asked for food, actually, since the bandits took all they had. I offered the money, to Alistair's joy and Morrigan's disbelief. "It was _their_ money to begin with," I said. I had explained this before.

"They were the ones foolish enough to travel without so much as arming themselves," she said. "They deserve whatever befalls them."

"I'm not going to let them starve to death to prove some point about the importance of carrying weapons," I said. "Maker's breath, they had a child with them. Although it is odd they didn't bring their weapons when they fled."

Alistair cleared his throat. We both turned to him. "Elves aren't allowed to carry weapons," he quietly explained to me. "Not in most areas, at least."

Morrigan scoffed. "This is a _blight_. I would think any reasonable person would place protecting themselves over some absurd law. In truth, I would be shocked if the majority of laws will even be enforced in the days to come."

"What?" I said, still confused. "Why not?" Morrigan and Alistair exchanged a glance and he gestured for us to follow him. We went into a narrow alley not far away from the bridge.

"All right," Alistair said. "I know the Circle treats everyone the same," he said, "but outside the Circle things are very different. Most humans, they consider elves inferior. Almost every town has laws against elves carrying weapons, or living in certain areas. In larger cities there's usually an alienage, a walled off section where all the elves live. They're… not nice." Alistair made a face as if he was remembering something particularly distasteful. "There are rules about what jobs an elf can take, so most will be servants or dock hands. The worst work, usually. Or they're beggars."

"But why?"

"Because small minded men feel better when they can place another below them," Morrigan said. "And most people are fools who accept their lot in life without question."

Alistair ignored her. "I don't know. That's just how things have always been. I don't like it, either, and the Grey Wardens don't agree with it as policy. But you should know since I'm sure this will come up again as we travel."

"Well, I think that's horrible," I said. Alistair agreed with me, but said there was nothing we could do about it.

We walked over to the tavern, hoping for lunch. Instead, we got ambushed by men left behind, specifically to find us, by Loghain. "Didn't we spend all morning asking about a woman by this very description? And everyone said they hadn't seen her?" I blinked in surprise. They were looking for _me_? Why _me_? Alistair was as much a Grey Warden as I was, why did he have men out hunting for _me_? I didn't have time to figure that out, though, since over the protests of a woman in chantry robes, they moved on us.

To my surprise the woman pulled a dagger out of the sleeve of her robes and, with a loud battle cry, threw herself into the fight at our side. Between the four of us and my dog, it was no surprise the two men surrendered quickly. The sister encouraged me to spare them and, in what seemed to be becoming a pattern, Alistair and Morrigan stood behind me offering no input.

"Fine," I groaned. "But. First you're going to pay that man for everything that's been broken," I said, pointing to the bartender. "Then, you're going to pay for all of our lunches since it would be a nice apology for attacking us. And, once that's done, you can take a message to Loghain."

The man looked horrified. "What… what did you want me to tell him?"

"You tell him the Grey Wardens know what _really_ happened and he's going to pay. We're coming from him." Smiling, I held up a hand, lightning arcing between my fingers. In truth, it would be no more painful than the shock you might get from touching a doorknob after walking on a carpet, but it _looked_ really impressive. Jowan and I spent a month perfecting the trick. "He can't hide from us. I can find him even in the Fade itself. And I'll _know_ if you don't tell him, too." The man dropped a pile of gold coins and ran out the door, his associate on his heels.

"Can you really do that?" Alistair said, sounding horrified.

I snorted. "Come on, of course not. But they don't know that, and I bet Loghain doesn't, either. Sounded pretty scary, didn't it?"

"Yes," he agreed. "Judging by the puddle on the floor he would agree."

"Oh, ew," I said, stepping back. "Now that's just _disgusting_. Ugh, and it got on my boots!"

An elven man darted over with a mop and pail, quickly cleaning the floor. He handed me the gold coins and backed away nervously when I thanked him. I noticed the Chantry sister was still staring at us, looking strangely thrilled.

So that's how the four of us, plus my dog, ended up sitting down to lunch, pretending we didn't notice everyone in the tavern watching with what seemed to be horror mixed with awe.

"I cannot tell you how thrilled I am to join you!" the woman gushed in an Orlesian accent. Her name was Leliana and, I had to admit, she did seem handy in a fight. She also thought the _Maker_ told her to help us, though, so I wasn't exactly going to leave any strategy decisions to her. "I won't let you down," she insisted, sipping a glass of wine. Alistair thought she was completely crazy, and Morrigan seemed to think I was crazy for letting her join us, but really, we needed the help. Especially if we were going to keep getting attacked in every tiny town and village in Ferelden.

Once our meal was done Alistair unrolled a map from his pack and pointed vaguely to where all the treaty groups could be found. "And this," he said, "is Redcliffe. That's where Arl Eamon is." He sighed. "I hope he's all right."

"Did I hear you say he raised you?" I asked, remembering what I overheard of his conversation with the knight in the Chantry.

"Did I say that?" he laughed. "No, no, I was raised by _dogs_. Giant slobbery ones, from the Anderfels."

"That must have been difficult for them," I replied, figuring I would play along.

"Well, they were _flying_ dogs, of course," he said. "Surprisingly strict parents, but that is the way of most devout Andrastians, isn't it?"

"I hope you at least write them," I said, grinning. "I bet your mother can be a real bitch if you don't."

He started laughing at that, actually looking more like the man I met in Ostagar than he had at any point since the battle. I was glad I went along with his joke since it got that haunted look out of his eyes, even for a bit. "All right, I give," he said, once he stopped laughing. "That's pretty good."

"I have my moments," I said.

"So it would seem," he replied, leaning back in his chair. "Well, let's see. This is a bit embarrassing," Alistair said, actually looking embarrassed. "I'm a bastard." He must have seen Morrigan opening her mouth since he quickly added, "I mean the _fatherless_ kind."

I stared at him for a moment, trying to figure that out. "But… how can someone get pregnant without a father? That's impossible."

He sighed. "No… I mean, I _have _a father. Technically. He just wasn't married to my mother."

"So why is that embarrassing?" I asked. "And why for _you_? You didn't do anything more than get born."

"It just _is_," he said. "Remember our talk about things being different outside the tower? I really hope you do since we had it only an hour ago. This is another one of those things."

"I admit, I never knew my father," Leliana said. "I grew up in Val Royeaux, though. There it is not such a scandal."

"Mine was surely some Chasind fool. I am better for _not_ having known him," Morrigan added. "I find the entire fixation with marriage to be pointless."

"Well then, aren't we a happy little club," Alistair said. "Anyways, my mother was a serving girl in Redcliffe Castle. She died when I was a baby. Arl Eamon wasn't my father, but he took me in and kept a roof over my head. He was good to me. He didn't have any reason to be, either. I used to resent him for sending me to the Chantry, but… I understand now."

"Do you know who your father was?" I asked, curious.

"The man they told me was my father died many years ago," Alistair said. "It isn't important." His face shut down so I dropped the subject. Whoever it was, he wasn't happy about it. "So, Arl Eamon married a young woman from Orlais. She didn't like me, and she didn't like the whispers that I was the Arl's son. And off I went to the nearest monastery at age ten, kicking and screaming the whole way."

"What a horrible thing to do to a child," I said. That sounded no better than what happens to mages, perhaps worse since he was old enough to clearly remember his life before. I could certainly understand his resentment.

He just shrugged, making excuses for the Arlessa. "I was so angry when it happened. When the Arl came to tell me I'd be leaving… I ripped an amulet right off my neck and threw it at the wall. It shattered everywhere." Alistair looked down at his hands, face a mask of misery. "That was the _only_ thing I had of my mothers, and I destroyed it. What a stupid thing to do." He looked back up. "The arl came to visit me a few times, but I hated it there and blamed him. Eventually he stopped coming."

"Sounds like you had a reason to blame him," I said.

"The Arl's a good man," Alistair insisted. "He was the king's uncle, too, so he has a personal reason to want justice. I'm nervous hearing about his illness, though. I hope we don't discover Loghain came to the same conclusion about him that we did and had a hand in this."

"There really isn't anything we can do if he is sick," I said. "I mean, none of us are healers." I looked at him, he seemed lost in thought. "If you want us to stop there so you can speak to him I understand," I said. "I don't see any way we can _help_ him, though. We may have to wait until he recovers or…"

"No, I understand," Alistair said. "No healers. Believe me, I haven't forgotten that." He sighed. "I'd like to stop, but I know we have much more important things to do. Do you think… would it be possible to stop in on our way back from Orzammar?"

I looked at the map, trying to determine what the little pictures meant. "Sure," I said. "It looks like… this is the Circle, right? So Redcliffe is on the lake between Orzammar and the Circle, if we follow this road, so it wouldn't even be out of the way. Yes?" Alistair put a hand over his mouth and coughed, covering a smirk.

"Maggie," he said. I looked up from the map at him. "You can't read a map, can you?"

"That obvious?"

"Well, you just identified a mountain as the Circle of Magi, Waking Seas as Lake Calenhad, and a river as a road." He chuckled and pointed out the locations accurately. "The Circle is actually on the way to Orzammar from here, did you want to stop there first?"

"No," I said quickly. "They… they can wait." I suspected if I held out a bit longer maybe tempers would cool down. Maybe. "We'll go to Orzammar first since I really want to make sure the dwarves are on our side, then we can stop in Redcliffe. And then," I made a face. I couldn't justify going across the country to find the Dalish only to double back so we could visit the Circle last. "And then we can go to the Circle. By then it should be spring, so we can find the Dalish. And, you know, hope the archdemon doesn't show up before we're done."

The meal done, we waited outside for Leliana to return from picking up her things at the Chantry. A couple local men were gossiping outside.

_"Got a cousin in the templars," _a man nearby was saying. _"He says the mages in that tower in the middle of Lake Calenhad are all demons."_

_"They always say that, though."_

I turned to look at them, they shut up quickly after spotting my staff. "Er, don't mind us," one said. "Just talk, that's all."

Leliana finally walked back wearing leather armor, carrying a pack and bow. "How exciting!" she said. "I have heard so much about Orzammar. I never dreamed I would see it for myself!"

* * *

"Stupid… bloody… idiots!" I screamed for about the tenth time, this time hitting a tree with lightning to punctuate my statement.

We had camped outside Lothering the previous night. Alistair had told me about a board outside the Chantry, where jobs for pay were listed. After running through every one that involved killing things it was far too late to move on. We had earned ourselves a handful of gold coins and a new sword as payment for our troubles, though, so it seemed worthwhile.

In addition to the mysterious Leliana, who claimed she had been a minstrel before the Chantry, we had also managed to find a qunari, the race of bronze-skinned giants from the north. The man, who went by the name of Sten, had been left in a cage for the darkspawn as punishment for killing a family. He seemed remorseful enough, though, and he apparently had sat waiting for them to arrest him due to his immediate regret of his actions. To my surprise, Alistair, Morrigan, and Leliana all said leaving him would be cruel, with both Alistair and Morrigan also pointing out how strong his race was known to be, and what powerful warriors they were. I had been thinking the same thing, actually having the four of us agree made it a remarkably easy decision. He seemed to like the idea of earning redemption by helping us, so once Leliana picked the lock we were off.

I decided at that point that there would be a secret addendum to any plan we devised. If, at any point, Alistair and Morrigan agree on _anything_ I will do _whatever_ they are suggesting, no matter what it is. I suspected it wouldn't come into play very often.

With the added people our group looked far more impressive. I'd even managed to find armor in town that fit Sten. I suppose it was his old armor sold by the Chantry to one of the merchants, I can't imagine there was much demand for anything cut to fit a seven foot tall man in Lothering. So one can imagine my surprise when, after breaking down camp, a group of farmers confronted our now doubled in size, well armed, heavily armored band. They admitted that they didn't know or care if we were guilty, saying they just wanted the bounty on us to feed their families. Before we could even point out that they were a group of farmers armed with little more than kitchen knives and thus had no chance against us they attacked. It was only minutes before they were all dead.

I cursed again, kicking a tree and freezing the branches of it. As soon as we made camp that night I retreated to the edge of it, filled with a mix of anger and guilt. I hadn't even bothered to ask the dwarven merchant we saved from darkspawn on the imperial highway why he had set up with us.

"Maggie?" Alistair was approaching me, walking slowly with both his hands held out. "Um. Don't hit me with lightning. I'm just checking to see if you're all right. But, clearly, you're… not."

I sighed and sat on the ground. "I'm sorry," I said to Alistair. "I'm just upset."

"Yes, I gathered that," he said, nervously sitting near me.

"Aren't you?" I said. "I feel horrid."

"I am, but they didn't exactly give us a _choice_," he said.

"I know," I said. "I just… it's so _stupid._ I mean, look at us. They should have _known_ it wouldn't be a fair fight."

"Desperate people act without thinking," he said.

"You're right," I said, leaning back on the grass. "I hate that we had to kill them. And I hate that they probably won't be the last innocent people we have to kill before all this is done."

"Well," Alistair said, "maybe if word of this spreads no one else will try for the bounty."

"True," I said. "Although as far as bright sides go, that's pretty lousy."

"Yeah," he agreed. "I don't think there are many bright sides at times like these, though."

"Probably not," I agreed. I glanced over at him. "So how did you end up being the one to come over here? Lose a bet?"

He chuckled. "Leliana said something about she could remind you their souls are with the Maker now and I thought, oh, that'll go over just wonderfully. After that Sten made a comment about how _his_ people treat mages. Trust me, you _don't_ want to know. And Morrigan… Well, I didn't ask her since she's a bitch."

I chuckled at that. "You know she only gives you such a hard time because you show it bothers you."

"I only show it bothers me because it _does_," he said. "It hurts my feelings. My manly, manly feelings. All one of them." I actually laughed at that.

"So dish it back," I said. "Figure out what bugs her and start poking. If you do that every time she picks on you she'll eventually stop." I giggled. "Or, maybe she just thinks you're cute."

"_What_?"

"What what? Tons of people just pick on someone because they secretly like them. Come on, you're telling me you never pulled some little girl's hair to get her attention?"

"Monastery, remember? Closest thing to a little girl as far as the eye could see was the Revered Mother, and I'm pretty sure she was old enough to have become a priest back during the rebellion. Not ours, mind you. Andraste's. Didn't look a day over three hundred, though. Very well preserved."

"Ouch," I replied. "Sorry. Well, it happens. Granted, most give it up around the same time they're old enough to _do_ anything about the attraction, but she's lived in the woods for her whole life with just her mother. Maybe she's a bit behind."

"No. No no no," he waved his hands. "She does not. She's just _mean_. And we are never, _never_ going to mention this horrible, evil, _wrong_ theory again." Alistair shuddered. "I suddenly feel like I should go wash up all over again." He made a disgusted face. "Let's go back to the making fun of her plan. I like that much better. It doesn't give me the uncontrollable urge to _projectile __vomit_." I shrugged, laughing. "You know, I could point out her resemblance to her mother," he said. "Especially the nose."

I laughed. "Oh wow, she'll _hate_ that."

"I know!" he laughed. "And, now that you no longer look like you want to kill things with fire, I think Leliana's almost done with dinner. It's very… fancy looking."

* * *

_A/N: I can't be the only one who thought Ser Bryant was hot. And poor Alistair. When she isn't embarrassing him she's torturing him with horrible off-base theories. _

_Thanks for reading and reviewing!  
_


	15. Not feeling any funny stories coming on?

Evenings had actually become somewhat interesting since leaving Lothering. As it turned out, Leliana was a former minstrel. At least, that was what she said, but even I could tell she was hiding something. It was obvious there was far more to her story. I wondered briefly if she was sent by Orlais to spy on us but rejected that as insane. After all, what were we doing besides killing darkspawn? In any case, she had a lute and spent most evenings singing or telling stories if we asked. Morrigan still isolated herself from everyone, but it became clear she just didn't want to spend time with _anyone_. I was the only one she didn't directly insult if they spoke to her. Perhaps she only liked mages?

I had hoped we could reach Orzammar quickly, but Alistair told me it would take another week just to get around Lake Calenhad. It wasn't helped that we were attacked by darkspawn almost daily, occasionally more than once in a day, slowing us down more than anyone liked. I insisted on gathering up the bodies, with Alistair's help since I knew neither of us were at risk of the plague, each time. "Why?" Morrigan asked after the first day. "Surely we are not the only ones leaving dead darkspawn in our wake."

"No," I agreed. "We are the only ones in Ferelden who can clean up after ourselves without getting sick, though. If we prevent one person from becoming a ghoul, well, that's one less person for us to kill, and one less person running around spreading disease." I had only seen a few ghouls since we left Ostagar, one of them still wearing his uniform. I suspected the vast majority of the darkspawn we were encountering were not part of the horde in the South. Seeing that I had a pragmatic reason for doing this and wasn't simply some kind of half-crazed neat freak, Morrigan began to help me with the burning, one of us standing on either side of the pile, flames shooting from our fingertips. Between the two of us it usually took less than a quarter hour.

The tower came into view six days out from Lothering. I had been helping Leliana prepare dinner, she was showing me how to pluck feathers from a duck she shot on the water's edge. "So, how do we make gravy?" I asked once it was set on a spit she arranged over the fire.

She giggled. "Even in the tower they raise you as proper little Fereldans, I see. Not everything needs gravy!" She must have read my doubtful expression. "Trust me," she said. "It will be delicious. There is more to food than heavy stews and gravy. You will love it." I decided not to argue. After checking our supplies and making sure no one needed anything I realized Alistair was missing.

Looking around I saw a solitary figure alone by the water's edge. I hiked over, Dane nipping at my heels, to see Alistair holding a small stone in his hand and staring glumly at the tower. "You all right?" I asked, walking up behind him.

"Hm?" Alistair said, lost in thought. "Yeah. I'm fine. I was just thinking, if Duncan hadn't come along I'd probably be… there right now."

Dane sandwiched himself between us as I sat by the water with Alistair. "Well, you and me both. Or, you know. Not there." I looked at the tower. "See the window on the fourth floor, the one that's lit up?" He nodded. "That was the window closest to my bed in the apprentice dorm. I used to sit up late staring out it, wondering what it was like to be on this side." I pulled off my boots and socks, letting my feet touch the water. "I used to spend _hours _wondering what _this _was like."

"What?"

"Sitting on the edge of the water. Letting my feet get wet. I've lived on this lake my whole life, but never actually touched it."

"So is it all you dreamed and more?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Not even close," I admitted. "It's much… colder than I expected. But it's still pretty excellent."

He nodded. "Winter soon. We should be able to make it to Orzammar in another week, maybe ten days. If we're fast there we should be back in the lowlands before the first snows."

"I like snow," I said. "It's pretty." I looked over at the tower again. "That third light in on the sixth floor was my friend Brennan's room after his Harrowing. Wonder if he's in there now… I think the room I moved to after my Harrowing was on the other side, but I can't remember. I never slept in it."

"Maker's breath," he said. "Do you _ever_ rest? I'm going to start sitting far, far away from you. You're like some sort of mage-y public menace."

I laughed. "Not _that_. I mean I left the morning after my Harrowing. I was assigned a new room and gone a few hours later."

"I'm curious," Alistair said. "I was present for one Harrowing. It, um…" He made a face.

"Ended badly?" I offered.

"Yes," he said. "That was when I became _quite_ certain I wanted nothing to do with being a templar. But, I'm wondering what it's like from the other side. For the mages."

"It's supposed to be kept a secret," I said.

"Ah, well, I can understand that."

"But… they already hate me, so what's one more crime," I laughed, before telling him.

"So, they tossed you in the fade with _three_ demons."

"Yep," I said. Only one actually attacked me, though. I think the other two were in on it."

"_In on it_?" he said, clearly appalled. "But demons can't be trusted! What if you were strong enough to resist whatever it offered and it just decided to attack you anyways?"

"My thoughts _exactly_," I said. "It's bullshit. It's practically an execution. You know just about half the apprentices fail it."

"That's worse odds than the Joining," Alistair said.

I sighed, looking at the building. "I've sometimes wondered since then if maybe that's the point. Not to test us, just to… cull our numbers."

"That's a dark thought," Alistair said. "Although…"

"Hm?"

"From what _I _know of the Chantry, I wouldn't put it past them." I looked over at him, it was obvious he had more to say. "You know Duncan conscripted me. The Chantry keeps a pretty tight grip on their templars, and with good reason. They have secrets they don't want getting out."

"Oh?" I said. "Do tell!"

He chuckled. "You won't tell me your big secret and you want mine?"

"All right, first off," I said, "this isn't _your_ secret, it's the Chantry's. That's a whole different thing. And second, I told you about the Harrowing, that's supposed to be a big secret." I sighed. "And third, fine, I will tell you. You first, though."

"Really?" he said. "Well, I can't pass that up. You know what templars can do, yes?"

"Obviously," I said.

"Right. Well, did you know… the Chantry says their skills are improved by using lyrium. And all templars are actually _addicted_ to it?"

"You're kidding me!" I gasped. "_All_ of them? But I thought lyrium addiction could make people—"

"Go crazy? Yes. You get about forty years before they quietly ship you off to retire in Val Royeaux, a hallucinating wreck who barely knows his own name." He sighed. "But they all take it, they have no choice, and since the Chantry controls the lyrium trade they can't very well leave since it would cut off their supply."

"That's horrid," I said. "It's no different from our phylacteries. Just to keep you under their thumb."

"And they feel perfectly justified," Alistair said. "That would have been my fate if Duncan hadn't recruited me." I chuckled softly. "What's so funny?"

"What you said, it made me think. I never really realized it before, but the templars, a lot of them must hate what happens to them as much as the mages. They're just as trapped by the Chantry." I picked up a rock and hurled it violently into the water. "They're horrible. They're horrible and we're all their slaves. Lucky for them the templars and mages are always at each others' throats or we'd probably all rise up to march on Val Royeaux and drag the Divine through the streets."

"Now _there_ is a strange image," Alistair said. "But most would probably not like being compared to mages. Not all the templars are chantry-raised like me, a good chunk are true believers. Either people who just _hate_ mages or people who are so insanely religious they'd become a priest if they could."

"Oh, I know _that_," I said. "Hey, speaking of the true believers, here's a funny story! This one time, mmm, maybe three, four years ago I was in the library with another apprentice. It was after lights out and we were hidden behind one of those big bookshelves. Well, I must have been too loud, you'd think I'd be better keeping quiet, but nope. So all the sudden a templar appears around the corner. I'm ready to just _die_ of embarrassment. I mean, he's standing there and I've got my legs wrapped around this guy, robes all messed up, and we're both too panicked to move! I'm expecting him to start screaming at us for being out after lights out, but instead he just says something about how we needed to pray for our souls, and offered to say the chant with us." I roared with laughter. "Can you even _imagine_!"

Alistair was staring at me like I'd gone mad. "Wait… is that about… You did _not_ just tell that story, did you? We're not really talking about _that_, are we?"

"What?" I said. "You don't think it's funny? Jowan nearly fell off his bunk he was laughing so hard when I told him."

He stood up quickly. "You know, I… um, I think I have to ask Sten something."

"What did I say?" I asked, but he only rushed away.

Confused, I pulled my boots back on and stood to walk back to camp. He hadn't even stuck around long enough to find out about how I left the tower. But, I certainly couldn't complain about being able to put that conversation off for another day.

And another day was all I could put it off for, as it turned out. Again we camped on the shore of Lake Calenhad, the tower looming larger on the horizon. I hoped to reach Kinloch Hold the next day. It would be our last chance to resupply before Orzammar.

I had just finished setting up my tent when Alistair walked over. "Maggie," he said.

"That's me."

"How are you? Not feeling any _funny stories_ coming on, are we?"

"Not… really? I mean, I could come up with something if you wanted. I've got a good one about a sledding expedition indoors. Or the one about when someone started a rumor about secret passages in the tower and all the templars went nuts looking for them."

He stared at me. "Actually… that does sound like it could be funny. But no, I had another story in mind." He raised an eyebrow. "C'mon, you promised to tell me, before you had to go and scare me off with your ribald tales." He was actually grinning.

"Sure," I said. "You won't like it, though."

"I don't even care," he said. "I know you're not some… crazed maleficar. Now I'm just curious since you've kept it such a secret. And you don't keep _anything_ a secret. Even things any normal person would keep secret. Even things I _wish_ you would keep secret."

"Let's go for a walk," I said. "I don't really want Chantry Sister and Kill All Mages over there to hear me."

Alistair followed me to the water's edge. "They _kill_ mages? Wow, that's actually worse than what he told me."

"I was exaggerating," I said. "I haven't asked him yet, I can barely get three words out of him as it is. I'm not even sure if he knows I'm a mage, he seems pretty confused about me being a woman right now. I just figured it was pretty bad."

"All right," I said, sitting down. I started by telling him how I first met Jowan, and how close we were, hoping that would put everything else into the right light. It really didn't, though.

"You let a _blood mage_ free!" Alistair choked out. "You don't even _care!_ You're not at all worried! Are you _insane_?" He took a breath. "All right, so you didn't know at the time… and that's... not _entirely _your fault. But in hindsight you _still_ don't care!"

"Of course I'm worried," I said. "I'm constantly worrying about Jowan. I don't think I've gone a day without thinking of him at least once. I'll probably never find out if he's all right."

He groaned in frustration. "I don't mean worried about _him!_ I mean worried about what he might do!"

"That? Not at all," I said. "He won't do anything bad. I know him, he's a good person."

"_Good people_ don't learn blood magic!"

"They do if they're desperate to escape the tower," I said. "If they think that's their only chance." I sighed. "I said you wouldn't like it, I just _knew_ you wouldn't understand."

"Don't you tell me this is because I was a templar," he said. "I don't think _anyone_ in Ferelden, in _Thedas_, would defend blood magic. Except, apparently, you."

"Duncan did," I said. I was being unfair, really. I mean, Duncan _had,_ but invoking his name on Alistair was like throwing down a gauntlet.

"Really? Since I think I missed that conversation. 'Stop the blight, defeat the darkspawn, and by the way, malificar are just _awesome_.'"

"Don't be an ass," I snapped. "He told me before I even left the tower that most of the Grey Warden mages used blood magic. _Any means necessary_, Alistair. Not any means as long as the Chantry approves." I sighed. "This is why I didn't want to tell you."

He sighed. "I'm sorry. I know I'm not supposed to hold your past against you. It's just… blood magic is _so_ dangerous. It scares me that you don't seem to see that. It isn't some rule they invented just to keep you from something fun, blood mages are far more likely to become possessed. Or abominations. And some of the stories I've heard about things they've done… it would chill your blood."

"All magic can be dangerous in the wrong hands," I said. "I'd be more worried about someone using a basic lightning spell to rob grandmothers than someone using blood magic to fight darkspawn. I'm not talking about _mind control_ or anything, I'm not talking about using someone else's blood. I'm talking about having another way to cast spells when you've got no other choice."

He looked over at me. "And you're _not_ a blood mage?"

"Nope"

"No… um… plans for the future you want to warn me about?"

"No plans. Besides, I'd _never_ bargain with a demon, and that's the way most people learn." I said. "It's the principle of the thing. A spell is just a spell. It has no morals. It's all a matter of who is using the spell, and what they're doing with it."

"Well, if you're taking requests, I'd _really_ prefer you learn healing first. And blood magic, oh, _never_. Like never ever." Alistair actually smiled when he said that, so I relaxed a bit. Maybe he wouldn't kill me in my sleep.

I laughed. "If the Circle couldn't teach me to heal over many years I highly doubt I'll manage to learn on my own over months."

He grimaced. "Well, I guess we'll just have to… not get hurt."

"I think that's an _excellent_ plan."

We made better time the next day. I'd worked out a deal with a merchant and his son who had taken to setting up camp near us. I told them they were welcome to camp with us, but not having to carry as much during the day would sure make our night watch a lot more effective. Suddenly two crates at the back of their oxcart were set aside for us to store whatever we didn't want to carry.

We were just looking for a good camping site when I started to feel strange. I put my hands to my head, wondering why it was bothering me out of nowhere and why it kept getting worse. "Maggie," Leliana said, rushing to my side after she saw me stop and clutch my head, "are you all right?"

"No," I said. "Something's… wrong with my brain."

"Alistair!" she shouted.

"Now's not the time!" he replied. "There's darkspawn nearby, we're about to get ambushed." He turned back and looked anyways, though, muttering "oh, blast, after seeing me with my hands on my head. "Maggie, is it like a pulsing kind of pulling feeling?"

"Yes?" I said, not entirely sure. "And… it's red?"

"You're sensing the darkspawn. Just… try and ignore it for now. They'll be here any second."

I tried to focus on fighting and not the strange feeling in my head. Knowing what it was and that I wasn't about to drop dead in the middle of the road was a relief, at least, and allowed me to ignore it a little.

I was casting spells at a genlock when I heard a strange skittering noise not far away. Once the darkspawn fell I turned just in time to see a spider even larger than Dane overtake a hurlock, ripping his head off. "Maker's breath," I gasped. The spider seemed to look at me, and, unless I was mistaken, nodded slightly in my direction before running off after a genlock on its spindly legs. Deciding I was probably going mad, maybe from an allergy to the green things Leliana kept dumping in all our food, I determined I could deal with my hallucinations after the fight ended. Amused, I realized I had begun casting spells in time with the strange bit of music Leliana seemed to enjoy singing while we fought. It was about ancient heroes and battles.

"I like that song," I said once the last darkspawn had fallen. "I don't know, it makes me feel happier."

"Then it is working," she said. "That is a song of valor, it is meant to bolster our spirits in battle."

"How neat," I said. "It really does work!"

"Are you feeling better? Sensing the darkspawn, did it hurt?"

"It was strange, but not painful. Just… unexpected. My head feels better now, but I think I might actually be getting sick. For a moment I was sure I saw a giant spider fighting alongside us."

Leliana gasped then, pointing behind me. I turned and, yes, there was the giant spider. I think my jaw might have fallen open. It was looking at me, head cocked to the side. A moment later it shimmered and was gone, Morrigan standing in its place. "'Tis only I," she said, giving me a cocky grin.

"You became a spider?" I said, shocked.

"Yes. At times I find it more useful in close combat than my own form."

The only thing I could think to say was "wow." Morrigan chuckled and walked on ahead.

"I take it the Circle of Magi does not teach you to become giant spiders?" Leliana said, just as shocked as me.

"Or spiders of any size," I concurred. "Wow."

Camped near Kinloch hold, I sat looking at the tower. We were on a hill, not the shoreline. I didn't want to get that close, not yet. "How very fitting that they would build a prison for mages in the middle of a lake and make it look like a giant phallus," Morrigan said, walking up behind me.

"Isn't it?" I agreed. "The sickest part? Older you are the higher your quarters are. They've got eighty year olds climbing seven flights of stairs just to get from the dining hall to their bedrooms."

"That makes no sense," she said. "Even by the standards I would expect of the Chantry."

"Nope," I said. "But that's how it's always been so that's how it will always be."

"Why did you tolerate it? I would never allow someone to cage me."

I looked over at her. "What choice did I have? I was a _child_. I accidentally cast a spell and the templars came to get me. I didn't even know how to duplicate the spell that got them called on me, much less how to defend myself against a group of armed men."

"I would have flung myself from the top of the tower years ago rather than allow mind and body to be subjected in such a dehumanizing fashion."

"Really? You have no will to live, then? You wouldn't bide your time and wait for the moment you can leave?" I shook my head. "They controlled far less of me than you seem to think. Has my mind been broken? Am I a Chantry loyalist?" She gave me a grudging shrug. "As for my body, they kept me in the tower, not much else. I went to class, and frankly I'm glad for it since it gave me the skills I'm using now, but otherwise I did whatever I wanted, regardless of their rules. They couldn't keep me from getting drunk on a regular basis, for all their talk of the dangers alcohol poses to control. They couldn't keep me from stealing, or breaking into places. They _definitely_ couldn't keep me in my own bed. I spent my nights in the company of whoever I wanted even though they're constantly warning about the dangers of intimacy." I laughed then. "They're probably relieved to be rid of me."

"Dangers of intimacy?" she scoffed. "They expected you to live like the priests?"

"More that they thought relationships made you vulnerable. They create a weakness a demon can exploit. Emotional intimacy, not physical. Physical was frowned on, but only because it could lead to emotional."

"That is absurd," she said. "Although I will agree that love is a weakness, it is not the power of _demons_ I fear, but the power another person would have over me."

"Yes, exactly. I think, either you're strong enough and smart enough to know that a demon can't be trusted… or you're not. No relationship will change that. And I won't let someone lead me around like a fool. I've seen what that does to girls. It only makes you miserable. It makes you want a life people like us can never have. Home, family, all that."

"Exactly," she agreed.

"Physical, though… that's a whole other story. No one will keep me from that," I laughed. "I mean, sure, it _can_ cause loss of control. Sometimes. If it's _really_ good. But I default to ice anyways, so who cares? Not like I'll burn the building down."

"Do you mean to say you have _accidentally_…?"

"You haven't?" I said. "Oh, I pity you. It's usually those times when you sit there after going 'uhhhhh' because your mind isn't even working properly yet."

She looked at me for a moment before laughing. "Or perhaps I just might burn a building down," she said, conjuring a small flame in her hand. I joined her in laughter. Alistair looked over at us and made a nervous face.

"So I have to ask," I said.

"You wish to know about my shapechanging?"

"Well, yes, but that wasn't what I was going to ask now," I admitted. "What is _with_ you always teasing Alistair? Do you like him?"

"What?"

"I didn't grow up on another _planet_. Tons of people tease someone they're interested in." I glanced back at him. "I won't tell! Come on, you can't deny he's cute. Far too straight-laced for my tastes, but he's definitely easy on the eyes."

She started coughing. "I _assure_ you that is not the case." Her face twisted with disgust. "While I will admit, the fool does have a certain… physical appeal, I would sooner mate with a swamp rat. The conversation would no doubt prove to be more stimulating."

"Oh, he's not that bad," I said. "And he's calmed down a lot on the mage thing, just in the last month."

"If you find him so tolerable why not invite him to share _your_ bed? Since your entire order has died I'm sure any rules against fraternizing could be relaxed."

I laughed. "We don't have any. I checked with Duncan, before I even went through the Joining. Good thing, too, since I would have broken that one twice over already. And no, not with Alistair…" She raised an eyebrow and I shrugged. "But Alistair? In addition to, you know, thinking I'm an abomination waiting to happen, he's a bit too…" I couldn't quite think of the words. "Innocent? Conservative?" I shrugged. "You know what I mean, don't you? There's no rebellion in him, no… _flash_. I like a man with style."

"Ah, so you are the one they designed those absurd robes to appeal to," she laughed.

"Absurd? You don't like them? I think they're very smart. The tevinter ones are so much better, though. All the belts on the men's ones are just fantastic. And the fur is very classy, don't you think?"

"I prefer clothing that is _functional_ and nothing more. I do not need… gold rings and dozens of belts," she waved her hand dismissively.

"Suit yourself," I said. "You're a dirty liar since I can't imagine what functions those feathers on your shoulder serve, but I won't argue." I giggled. "And I wasn't suggesting you go throw yourself at Alistair or anything. I was just curious if that was why you devoted _so much_ of your time to teasing him."

"It is not _that_ much of my time," she said. "Besides, he makes it so simple. Bumbling around, eyes wide, all but drooling on himself as he sprouts Chantry platitudes."

"No, of course not," I laughed. She rolled her eyes at me. "So… a spider?" I said.

"'Tis a skill of Flemeth's, taught over many years," she said.

"I've never even heard of magic like that," I said, more to myself than her. I had hoped she would know unusual spells the circle kept from me, after all.

"'Tis not unheard of, in the remote parts of the world. There are rumors that the Dalish mages practice similar arts. Many more traditions of magic exist than simply what the Circle of Magi is willing to share with you."

"I don't doubt that," I said. "I'm sometimes amazed by just how much they were willing to teach us, although I suppose primal spells can't exactly be kept hidden."

"Indeed not," Morrigan agreed. "While I am sure the Chantry would love nothing more than to wipe out all unsanctioned magics right along with the mages who practice them, fortunately those like my mother have remained."

"That's good," I said. "I hate to think of how much knowledge has already been lost because of them."

"Indeed?" she seemed amused. "I would say it is surprising, but I am beginning to suspect anything that vexes the Circle would appeal to you."

"Probably," I agreed with a chuckle. "So, could you teach the spells to others?"

"By _others_ you mean yourself?"

"Well… you could try and teach Sten, but I don't think you'd get very far," I said.

"I can think of far more interesting things to teach Sten," she said, glancing over at the warrior.

"Yeah, good luck with that one," I laughed.

"If you are willing to make the attempt, I can teach you whenever we make camp for the night," she said, ignoring my comment on the hopelessness of chasing after the qunari.

"Fantastic," I said.

"On one condition," she added suddenly. I looked over, eyebrows raised. "The spell you use, with the ice? The one that allows the darkspawn to be shattered? Teach me that."

"Oh sure," I said. "I could tonight, it's easy!" I grinned, unable to hide my excitement at actually being able to share spells with Morrigan. I didn't know if I was more excited about her teaching me to be a shape shifter or that I actually had a spell she wanted to learn, too.

* * *

_So I could never really decide if Morrigan was hot for Sten, or just liked teasing him. So I'm going to go with hot for Sten. Since, well, that's amusing._

_Thanks so much to my reviewers! _


	16. I think we need a new policy

"I. Am. Freezing." I complained though chattering teeth. I was used to cold. I _liked_ cold. My go-to spell for almost any fight was ice. This, however, was insane. I had never been so cold in all my life.

"I told you we should have bought cloaks at Kinloch Hold. It's cold in the mountains." Of course Alistair was fine. Alistair had on about six dozen layers of padding and underclothes below his armor.

"With what money? We had enough for _a_ cloak. As in _one_. And that would have involved no longer being able to afford _food_." I grumbled, taking my staff off my back and using it as a walking stick to help me in the uneven, snowy terrain. "Unless you're secretly a prince with a hidden fortune I don't really see how we could have afforded cloaks." Honestly, I'd never even held a coin in my hand until a month ago, I shouldn't be the one to explain this to him!

He made a face and moved ahead quickly. I sighed, shivering again. Morrigan, oblivious to the cold, trotted alongside us in the form of a black wolf. She snorted with what I was sure was annoyance when I tried to pet her. I laughed, I had been expecting about that reaction. I _almost_ had the form of a wolf down. Soon I could be warm, too. Dane eyed her warily. So did Leliana. Sten eyed all of us.

"Here," Alistair said after we made camp. I accepted the blue bundle he was passing to me. "I have an extra sweater. I want it back, though!" I thanked him gratefully and pulled it on over my robes, rolling up the sleeves so they didn't cover my hands. He looked at me carefully. "Old blue sweater, yellow bloodstained Circle robes. We're certainly going to look impressive stumbling into Orzammar."

"Sorry," I said. "I don't have, well, anything. I _had_ sweaters, back in the tower. We left before I could pack." Sighing I looked at my pack. "The only reason I even have more than my circle robes is because Duncan bought me a set on the way to Ostagar. I stomped around in the same dirty blood covered clothes for a few days before he got the nerve to ask if I knew how to do laundry."

"Did you?" Alistair asked, sounding surprised.

"In a theoretical sense, yeah. I just didn't have anything to wear while my clothes dried. I've figured out I don't need nearly as much soap as I thought since then."

"I wondered why you started to suds up when we got caught in the rain," he said, laughing. "I didn't know anything, either. The Chantry had people who did all that. Even when I was banished to the kitchens for doing something wrong I'd just peel potatoes. I could barely boil water."

"_That_ I can do," I said, holding up a hand and summoning a small flame. "No problem. What to do with it once it's boiling… not so much."

"I can't believe the Chantry doesn't think to teach mages and templars any useful skills," Leliana said, more to herself than either of us. Alistair exchanged a glance and burst out laughing. "What?"

"We're not allowed _out_," I said. "Why bother? Might as well teach us, I don't know, gardening."

"Or dancing," Alistair added.

"Actually, we did learn dancing," I said. "The tower had a dancing master until a couple years ago. Sweet old man from Orlais. I think he was a holdover from the occupation, and since he was friends with the First Enchanter no one ever thought to get rid of him."

"How very… Orlesian," Alistair said.

"The ability to dance is a sign of culture and good breeding," Leliana said. "That belief is not restricted to Orlais. And the mages who do leave, it is usually to live among nobility as healers, yes? They would have occasional use for dancing."

"True," I said. "I don't really know the original reasoning, he was there when I got there. They never replaced him when he died, though." I shrugged. "I enjoyed it, dancing is fun. We learned Ferelden, Orlesian, and Antivan dances."

"Antivan!" Leliana said. "Ohh, scandalous! All that _touching_."

"Well, we didn't learn theirs until we were older," I said, giggling. "I was really good at them, though." Alistair made a snorting noise, I ignored him. "I'll probably never ever get to go dancing again. How sad."

"Oh no," Leliana said. "I'm sure when we end the blight they'll throw a grand party for us."

"So let me get this straight," Alistair said. "You can't _heal_ but you can _dance_."

"Yes," I said. "I don't really see what one has to do with the other."

"Healing is a _very useful_ skill," Alistair said. "People need healers. _We _will almost certainly need a healer before this is done. I don't think the darkspawn will be terribly impressed by a galliard."

"I don't know," I said, "my galliard is _really_ impressive." He made a face at me, I made one back. "Look, I'm really only good at one kind of magic. The kind that makes things dead. That doesn't… work very well with the other side of things."

"Are you just making excuses?" Alistair asked.

"Probably," I said. "But, it remains that I cannot heal, and pretty much had to cheat just to pass. And, mentioning it every half hour isn't going to somehow force the knowledge into my mind. It'll only make me want to hit you with lightning. Why aren't you bothering Morrigan about learning healing? She's a mage, too, you know."

"Because she's scary," he said. "You're not."

I stared at him. "I really don't know if I should be flattered or insulted," I finally said.

"Oh please," Alistair laughed. "Your hair's sticking straight up, you're wearing my sweater and it's about four sizes too big for you, and you named your dog _Dane_. _So_ not scary."

I reached up flattening my hair. "What's wrong with Dane? I happen to be very patriotic. I would have gone with Hafter but I met a Ash Warrior on the way to Ostagar who already named his mabari that." I made a face, remembering Ostagar with a shudder. "I really hope he's all right, he was such a nice guy. Didn't care at all that I was a mage. Great kisser, too."

"Maker's breath," Alistair groaned. "You know what, I'm just going to pretend that you didn't even say the second half there. The name Dane is, well, just slightly more creative than simply naming him _Dog_. I think almost everyone in Ferelden named their first dog Dane. But most people get their first dog when they're _six_."

"Well, this _is_ my first dog. So there. And what's wrong with the Ash Warriors? They fight with dogs! That's fantastic!"

"I don't have any problem with the Ash Warriors!" Alistair said. "And that's not the point. The point is, you are _not _scary!"

"Fine, fine," I said. "Just don't tell the darkspawn that."

He laughed and went to his tent. Since it was so cold we were using just two, both pitched very close to the fire. Morrigan, as usual, made her own camp, within sight of but not a part of ours. Leliana and I were on first watch.

"So you grew up in Orlais?" I asked her, trying to make conversation. Leliana was… interesting. She often spoke as though she were the most devout woman to ever live. At other times I suspected her past before Lothering was fairly wild, even by my standards. Small comments about her exploits were not what someone would expect from a Chantry sister. Unless Chantry sisters routinely get so drunk they end up waking in a strange city wearing nothing but a towel. Somehow I didn't think that was the case.

She nodded. "I did, but my mother was from Denerim and I've always considered myself a Fereldan. She served a noblewoman and, after Orlais was defeated, went back with her to Val Royeaux." She sighed, looking at the fire. "She died when I was very young. The noblewoman, Lady Cecile, kept me with her and educated me. I studied music and dance so that I could entertain her." Leliana looked sad. "I have more memories of her than I do of my mother."

"You were young," I said. "That's normal. I barely remember anything about my parents. I don't think anyone has strong memories from when they're that little."

"Did they die?" she asked gently.

"I don't know," I said. "I was taken away and sent to the tower."

"It seems strange they don't allow you to write and visit," she said.

"Not really," I said. "If you know where your family is you might try and escape, go to them. So they cut off all contact." I wrapped my arms around myself, grateful for Alistair's sweater. "I remember my mother had dark hair, like me. She gave me a cookie once, and set me on a counter, or maybe a high shelf, so I could watch her cook. I remember my father carrying me on his shoulder to look at animals. Cows, I think. So maybe they were farmers?" I shrugged. "It's funny the things you remember."

"It is," Leliana agreed. She was wrapped in a blanket and pulled it tighter around herself. "I remember, so clearly, exactly how my mother smelled, of all things. She used to scatter dried flowers among her clothes. Little white ones, called Andraste's Grace. I think I would know their smell anywhere even today."

"I know that flower," I said. "We had a greenhouse at the tower, sometimes they grew among the elfroot."

"So I have a thought," I said, after we had been silent for some time, too cold to speak.

"You do look like you've been deciding something."

I nodded. "Well. I'm freezing. You're freezing. Although he'd never admit it, I bet Sten is freezing. He's from way up north, it's warm there. We don't get paid, and I can't imagine anyone is about to step up and hand us money."

"This is true," she said. "We really can't go on like this. As cold as it is here now, this is still fall. Deep winter, even in the lowlands, is colder. I've been in Ferelden long enough to know that. We'll freeze to death."

"Exactly," I said. "And that's if we don't starve first. Or die because our equipment is falling apart. We got pretty far on the money we took off the bandits in Lothering, and from the Chanter's board, but we can't really count on bandits regularly attacking us."

She seemed to be on the same page as me. "I would _like_ to say the Maker will provide… buuut… the Maker also helps those who help themselves."

"That is what they say," I agreed. "So, I think we need a new policy." She nodded in agreement.

"A policy your fellow Grey Warden would likely disagree with?" Leliana asked diplomatically.

"Probably," I said. "I think I could convince him I'm right, and really, we _are_ trying to save the world. A case could be made that whatever we need takes priority. But no, he wouldn't approve right away."

"I _am_ a rather accomplished lockpick," she reminded me.

"I'm so glad we're on the same page," I replied. "I have noticed, at least in the few shops I've visited, most take items on trade. Or pay cash for them."

"That's very common," Leliana said. "And they will buy almost anything. Weapons, armor, but also luxury goods, jems, _anything_…"

"Anything that isn't nailed down?" I said, grinning.

"Exactly," she agreed with a smile. "I think that is a fine plan. I'm already looking forward to the warm cloaks we can buy at our next stop."

"And coffee," I said. We had been out for days.

"Tea," she added. "Dried meat… oh, new socks. I think I would actually _kill_ someone for a pair of socks without holes. I can only darn them so many times, they are more hole than sock now. My feet will be nothing but one painful blister unless we get new socks very soon." I nodded in agreement and Leliana chuckled. "I never thought I would be so excited about the thought of _socks_."

"You and me both," I said. "I'm just happy Duncan bought me new boots after I left the tower. My old ones were half as thick." We both stared into the fire, dreaming of warm clothes.

"What are you two grinning about?" Alistair asked, climbing out of his tent. I hadn't even realized our watch was up.

"Nothing," we replied, almost simultaneously.

He gave us a dubious look. We pretended not to notice and crawled into our tent, both attempting to sleep despite shivering under our blankets. We were probably better off than the others, though. They didn't have an enormous mabari sprawled over them like a giant fuzzy blanket. Well, a giant fuzzy _drooling_ blanket. Yes, stealing everything not nailed down was the way to go. It certainly wouldn't help our image or counter the whole treason/regicide thing, but really, having the only Grey Wardens in Ferelden freeze to death wouldn't serve anyone.

* * *

Finally it was the day Alistair insisted we would reach Orzammar. I could see a stone bridge in the distance, large carvings of people on either end. "Oh, I can't _wait_ to get inside," I said.

A small group of humans were milling around near the bridge. When we got closer they looked at us and perked up. Alistair and I exchanged a glance and tensed. "About time a Warden showed!" one shouted. "Loghain sends his regards!"

I laughed, launching into attack. "What's so funny?" Alistair asked as he smashed one assassin with his shield.

"I was just hoping we'd run into more bandits so we could buy dinner! Really, their timing is _perfect_."

"The Maker must be watching over us!" Leliana announced, slinging off arrows one after another.

Morrigan snorted, casting a lightning bolt at the mage with Loghain's group. "Your Maker is sending people to us so we can _kill them _and loot their bodies? Does this not sound odd to anyone else? Just me?"

"Well, when you put it like that…" Leliana admitted, switching to her blades when the last man standing got closer.

"All… insane…" he muttered before falling face first into the snow. She bent over and dislodged her dagger from his back where it was wedged between his ribs.

"Well, that's a harsh judgment for someone who doesn't even _know_ us," I muttered, digging through his pockets. "Oh nice… enchanted ring. That has to be worth something."

"Should we take their armor?" Leliana asked.

I looked at them. "Nah. It's all… bloody. And burnt. And covered in holes."

"It didn't really help them," Alistair agreed. "Are we done being ghoulish?"

"It's not _ghoulish_," I said. "It's _practical_. And they tried to kill us, so they deserve it!"

We stomped across the bridge, bags weighed down with everything but their armor. "Oh, look at this," Leliana said. "It's like a little city, with all the merchants hawking their wares."

It didn't take long for us to sell everything we stripped from Loghain's men. "Maker's breath," I said, counting up our take. "I've never seen so much in my _life_." We quickly bought cloaks for everyone who needed them, socks, and heavier clothes to wear under armor or robes. I returned Alistair's sweater and put on my new cloak, rushing a brush through my hair. The treaty said the _king_ would help us, I didn't know if they would actually take us to him, but if they did we shouldn't go in looking like beggars.

"Ready?" I asked Alistair. He nodded and passed me the treaty. I guess that meant I would be talking again. We climbed an enormous stone staircase, walking towards doors as big as a house set right into the mountain.

I stood to one side, a man was arguing with the door guard. "King Loghain depands the allegiance of the deshyr or lords or whatever you call them…" he was complaining.

Fantastic, more of Loghain's men. Did he go out of his way to put idiots in charge? This man thought being obnoxious would get the guard to give him his way? Orzammar didn't answer to the Kings of Ferelden.

And since when was Loghain the King?

The guard dismissed him and turned to me. "Hello, ser," I said, making sure I was smiling pleasantly. "I have urgent business with your King."

The guard shook his head, telling us the king was dead, they couldn't agree on a successor, and no one could get in until the assembly decided on a new king.

"I'm sorry," I said, since he did sound genuinely sad that the king died. "I do have this treaty, though, promising aid to the Grey Wardens in the event of a blight."

Loghain's man turned red, and I was sure steam would spew right out of his ears when the guard nodded, returning the treaty and telling us we could enter. Of course, Loghain's man then demanded the guard execute us.

"Andraste's flaming sword," I grumbled, taking my staff off my back. "Be an adult and attack us yourself. Or are you _scared_ since we just wiped out everyone you left on the other side of the bridge?" Leliana giggled.

"I will at that," he said as he drew his blade, sounding far less confident now that we all had our weapons out and ready. "_I'm_ a messenger of King Loghain!" He didn't say much after that, though. Probably because Alistair cut his head clean off, sending it bouncing down the stairs.

"Loghain's no king," Alistair said, voice full of rage.

The rest began to run and we took off after them, quickly wiping the group out. We managed to quickly loot everyone and sell the goods quickly before returning to the guard. I noticed the headless body was still there, blocking Orzammar's doorstep. Stripping it of weapons Leliana and I picked him up and pushed him over the railing of the stairs.

"Sorry about that," I told the guard.

He looked at us like we were mad before shaking his head. "You've done me a service, that fool's been barking for a week. Are all humans so touched?" Not sure how to answer that I just smiled and shrugged. He opened the massive doors, telling us we could enter but warning that we might not find the help we needed.

"So what do we do without a king?" Alistair asked, raising his voice to speak over the loud sounds of the metal box we were in. Although it had no windows, I could _feel_ it sinking lower into the ground. My stomach was not pleased with the sensation.

"He said the assembly decides on the king. I guess that's like the Landsmeet, maybe?" Leliana nodded, confirming that it was, if not equivalent, at least similar. "I guess we ask them?"

He nodded, apparently satisfied with that answer.

The box shuddered to a halt and we all looked around. A door swung open.

"Wow…" I gasped.

"I see the dwarven facility for stonework was not overstated," Morrigan said, actually sounding impressed. We passed through a long hall, statues lining both sides and the center, channels of something hot and glowing running behind them lighting the room. I leaned closer for a better look.

"Woah," Alistair said, grabbing me by the neck of my robes and pulling me back. "That's _lava_. You really, _really_ don't want to get that close. It's so hot it can catch your hair on fire from more than a foot away."

"Good to know," I said, stepping back and eyeing the liquid warily. I suppose they didn't post warning since everyone who lived here was fully aware of the danger.

Alistair explained that the statues were honored ancestors they called Paragons as we passed through the hall. "Dwarves revere their ancestors," he said. "They say they come from the stone, and return to it in death, so they revere that, too, I guess. It's… all kind of confusing."

"From you that says _very_ little," Morrigan replied quickly. "You find your own bootlaces confusing." Alistair turned, staring at her. "Mind where your eyes settle," she snapped.

"Oh, it's not that," he said. "I was just looking at your nose."

"Is there something about my nose you find particularly captivating?"

"No… just a nose. I was only thinking how it looks exactly like your mother's."

She narrowed her eyes. "I hate you so much." He chuckled and walked on.

Even Sten was impressed with the Orzammar commons. Well, he said "not bad" which was about as close to 'impressed' as he seemed to get. Of course, our awe was cut short when a bloody fight broke out within feet of us, leaving one man dead on the ground. Apparently the battle over king was more controversial than the guard at the gate implied.

* * *

"This feels wrong," I complained, sipping a pint of surface ale in the tavern. Leliana had warned me strongly against the dwarven ale. "We shouldn't get involved in politics."

"I do not see that you have any choice, if you are still adamant about demanding aid from the dwarves," Morrigan said. She was right. Without a king there was no one to honor the treaty. Without a king we couldn't even get access to the Grey Warden compound in the Diamond Quarter. I wondered how anyone got anything accomplished since the king was apparently responsible for everything from treaties down to fetching spare housekeys.

"I suppose we should pick a side," Alistair said. We had gone to the assembly where we saw another fight nearly break out and found out both candidates were in seclusion, only speaking through intermediaries. Both intermediaries demanded some visible show of support before they would let us meet the candidates. So, we had to decide who to support without so much as a single conversation.

Not caring that I probably looked insane, I asked almost every person we passed who they supported and why. The wealthy and upper class seemed to be strongly favoring Harrowmont. The opinion in the commons was far more in favor of Prince Bhelen, who was apparently far less traditional in his opinions. Against a guard's advice I even went into the poor neighborhood, where no one had an opinion. But, seeing the poor neighborhood was enough to sway my own. I'd never seen anything like it. I felt guilty for all the years I complained about living in the tower when I saw them. At least I never went to bed hungry. At least I _had_ a bed.

"I say Harrowmont," Alistair went on. "He seems honorable."

"And weak," I said. "He can't even keep his proving fighters from running away? How will he maintain order as King?"

"You don't know that," Leliana countered. "They say he is the more traditional candidate. People here value tradition. They may respect him for that."

"How many fights have we seen since we got here?" I asked. "Three? Four? And another that almost broke out in the very assembly? They'd eat a weak king alive. He'd probably be killed within a month!"

"Their tradition is killing them," Morrigan said. "Look around. Their territory shrinks and the population drops, all while they cling to _tradition_. If they do not see the lack of sense in expecting more of the same to produce change they _deserve_ to lose their land to the darkspawn." I nodded in agreement.

"And that dust town place," I added. "It was _horrible_. All the rumors say Bhelen's in favor of improving things for them. That's almost enough for me by itself."

"I _hate_ to say it," Alistair said. "But Morrigan does have a point. It is in our best interest for Orzammar to have a strong king. They're the front line against darkspawn outside the blight, and they've been losing the war for years. And the casteless… how anyone can tolerate that is beyond me."

"Yes," I said. "So… Prince Bhelen, then?"

"Ugh," Alistair groaned. "They say he killed his own father. Can't we pick… someone else?"

"Sorry, Alistair, it looks like it's one or the other." I put my head in my hands. "I feel like I want to crawl out of my skin," I grumbled.

"It's the darkspawn," Alistair said. "We're right on top of them."

"Cheery," I said. "All right, let's get this done." Prince Bhelen's man had asked us to deliver letters to two Harrowmont supporters, showing they were being double crossed so they would change sides.

Delivering the first letter was easy, the recipient was drinking across the room from us. The second letter required a trip into the deep roads, though. "They're actually safer during a blight than usual," Alistair said as we walked towards them. "Since all the darkspawn are on the surface." After our pass was examined we were warned to be careful and sent on.

The deep roads were about twice as horrific as I expected. I think seeing the remains of what must have once been beauty under the filth and corruption made it seem even worse. We were attacked by small bands of darkspawn repeatedly. If this was an easier trip than usual I hated to imagine how it must have been between blights. Dane whined. I scratched his head, calling him a brave boy and hoping that would reassure him.

Fortunately the thaig we had to find was close, and we arrived just in time to save the man we were looking for and his team from some small screeching lizard-creatures they called deepstalkers. After stripping the thaig of everything with value we could carry we turned back

"I'm _starving_," I said as we walked back to the city. Fortunately we had passed through recently enough that the darkspawn hadn't regrouped. I still would have burst into a hymn just to distract myself from the buzzing in my head, though. Whining about my empty stomach seemed as good a distraction as any. "Why am I so hungry? We just ate!"

"That's normal," Alistair said.

While I had been starving pretty much nonstop since Ostagar it wasn't really normal for me. Alistair, not knowing me before then, wouldn't realize that. "No, it's not," I said. "I feel like I've been eating all the time for weeks now. Maybe I picked up a bug at Ostagar from the food in camp."

"No, more like something you _drank_," he whispered. "It's a side effect." Alistair looked over to make sure I understood before returning to a conversational volume. "I remember before I got used to it I would just dump food right in my mouth, not even bothering with a spoon. I'd end up drenched in gravy from licking my plate clean after every meal. Sometimes even in my hair!"

"Ew," I said. "I haven't been _that_ hungry."

"Really?" he laughed. "Since I was just watching you eat an entire nug in one bite in the tavern and thinking 'lucky for her she gets a lot of exercise.'"

"Are you calling me a pig!" I said, pretending to be offended. Really, I _had_ been a pig since the Joining, now that I thought about it.

"Oh no," he said. "I used to sleep in a barn. I've seen pigs before. They stop eating long enough to _breathe_ between bites."

All right, I wasn't _that_ bad. "I'm going to get you for that," I warned. "When you least expect it… zap."

"Tem-plar," he replied in a singsong voice. "Your magey powers are no threat to me!"

"Well, maybe I'll just cut your hair off in your sleep, then." Alistair laughed, darting further away from me holding his hands to his head.

"Now now, no need to play dirty," he said.

So, being hungry was normal. I should have expected there to be more repercussions to drinking that concoction than simply being able to sense darkspawn. "What else changes?" I asked.

"You know, when I asked Duncan he just said 'you'll see.'"

"Try that and I _will_ hurt you," I said. "All the 'we'll tell you later' stuff is why neither of us even know _how_ we find and kill the archdemon!"

"I know," he said. "It's just… not a happy topic."

"What is?" I laughed. The only upside to being a Grey Warden that I'd seen so far was that I was out of the Circle. Everything else was just one bit of bad news after another.

"True," he said. We fell in step, walking far enough ahead of the others that they couldn't hear. "Well, you've noticed being hungry. Thing is, you _need_ more food now. If you ate like you used to you would probably waste away in weeks. But, you also have more energy, so that's something."

"These aren't _bad_ things, really," I said. "What else. You're hiding something."

"The nightmares," he said. "Most of us can block them out eventually, but… you might have them for the rest of your life, or have a harder time blocking them. That's what they say about people who join during a blight. No one's sure, though, since it's been so long."

"They have been… bad," I said. "I don't always remember them, but I wake up terrified." In truth, I woke up screaming. Most of our group was just too polite to mention it.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I can barely block them out myself, most of the time I can't. I wish I could offer some advice." I shrugged, indifferent. It was, all things considered, not a bad tradeoff for avoiding whatever fate the tower had for me. "But… even if you block them out, they'll come back eventually. That's how we know… um"

"Know what, Alistair?" I said. He clearly didn't want to tell me this.

"That's how we know," he sighed, "our time has come." He sighed, giving me a sympathetic look. "On top of everything else, well... you don't have to worry about getting old and wrinkled."

I stopped. I wasn't going to let him not tell me or dance around this anymore. "What do you mean?" I demanded.

"You— _we_ have about thirty years to live. More or less. No one can drink darkspawn blood and survive. Grey Wardens are just the lucky few who don't die right away."

I stared at him, horrified. Alistair put a hand out, motioning for the others to stand back. "Oh," I said, shocked.

"I'm sorry," Alistair said. He looked nervous, I think he was expecting me to yell.

"It's… all right," I said. "I… I probably would have died in the tower if Duncan hadn't been there. Right away, I mean. And thirty years isn't bad, right? Better thirty years free than fifty in the tower." I was, quite clearly, trying to find every reason I could not to be upset. I crouched down on the ground, taking a deep breath. I wasn't going to get mad at him. It wasn't his fault, he was in the same position. But… I couldn't claim I was happy. "I understand." I managed, standing back up. "I'm fine."

"You don't have to _always_ be _fine_," Alistair said. "I was _furious_ when I found out. I screamed at Duncan for hours."

"No," I said. "I _do_ have to be fine. There's a blight and we're all alone, I don't really have the luxury of sitting and crying." I put a hand over my eyes. "Really, it'll be amazing if we survive this, much less get thirty more years."

"You call that looking on the bright side?" He shook his head. "But, there you go. That's why we keep everything a secret. I mean, knowing that, who would join?"

I shrugged. "I probably still would have," I said. "Just to get out." Saying that, I realized it was true and actually did feel better. "So, what… we just keel over one day?"

"Not exactly," Alistair said. "We come here, actually. The Deep Roads. To take as many of them out with us as we can."

I looked around. I was going to die _here_? This dark, miserable, corrupted, _terrifying _place? Not only would I die young, but I had to _fight_ to death? Alone? I would spend the rest of my life fighting and still couldn't even manage a comfortable death in bed. I wouldn't even get a funeral, who would come here to recover my body? It would be like I'd never even existed.

Feeling panic set in I looked over at Alistair. He must have realized something of what was going through my mind. "Well, I'm an idiot," he said. "I _really_ should have picked a better location to tell you this." I nodded. "I'm sorry," he said. "Are you—"

"No," I managed, my breathing strained. It felt like the corridor we were in was getting narrower by the second. "We need to get out of here. Now."

* * *

_So on my very first playthrough of dragon age guess where I triggered that conversation? Heh. _

_Thanks to everyone who reads and reviews. And, if you haven't seen it, I posted a short one-shot story written for a one hour prompt from Anders' POV earlier today, it's on my profile. _


	17. Wash the taste of foot from my mouth

Alistair managed to hustle us out of the deep roads in near-record time, arm clamped around my waist to keep me moving all the while.

"Better?" he asked once we were back in Orzammar.

I nodded, hands on my knees as I tried to catch my breath. "I never want to go back there again." And then I remembered. "Oh, Maker," I groaned. "That is going to take some getting used to."

"What's wrong," Leliana asked, looking concerned.

I shook my head. "Warden stuff. Don't worry, I'll be fine. Just need a few seconds." Once I was breathing normally and didn't feel like the entire mountain was caving in on me we moved on. "What time is it?" I said as we walked further into the city. Being so far underground I had no idea.

"Almost ten," answered a guard as we passed by. "At night," he added quickly.

I thanked him. Stopping at a nearby stall to sell everything we collected, I asked for a recommendation for an inn. "Well," I said, returning to everyone, feeling better with every step separating me from the deep roads. "If we want cheap, there's Tapsters in the Commons. If we want clean there's someplace over in the diamond quarter."

"I take it there's nothing that qualifies as both cheap _and_ clean?" Alistair looked worried.

"Doubtful," I said. "And I'm in favor of _cheap_. We do cheap we can each have our own room!" I was very much in favor of the own room plan. I was also in favor of the 'getting very drunk and meeting someone interesting to remind me I wasn't dead yet' plan, but I figured that went without saying once I mentioned private rooms.

"Why would that matter?" Alistair said. Well, maybe it didn't go without saying.

"Maybe some of us would like to find company for the evening," I said, trying to be polite.

"The men here are far shorter than you," Sten pointed out. "It would not be an appropriate match for breeding."

"So?" I said. "So are most elves. That never bothered me. And _breeding_ is the last thing on my mind." I made a face.

"Can we _please_ not have this conversation," Alistair said.

"Let's just get moving," I said, rolling my eyes. "I'd like to get out of sight of this place."

To my shock a group of men, screaming about us supporting the "kinslayer" attacked us on our way through the commons. It was a difficult fight, but in the end we won with only minor injuries. I looked around, seeing a disinterested guard not far away.

"They attacked us f—"

"I know, Warden," he said, waving his hand. "Don't give it another thought." Nodding with thanks, we continued on.

Once at Tapsters I arranged for rooms, paying extra so we could each have a bath and dinner. It wasn't much, but I winced paying for anything at all when we all had perfectly good tents. I suppose being in a city we didn't have much choice, though. My room had a tub full of clean but lukewarm water in it. Dropping my bag I knocked on Leliana's door, next to mine.

"Your bath cold, too?" She made a face and nodded, so I walked past her into the room. A quick blast of flame later the water steamed.

"Thank you!" she said, thrilled. "I'll have to remember you can do that!" She grinned and showed me a pile of coins.

"All today?" I said, surprised.

"All today, all from the Diamond quarter," Leliana confirmed. "Here, put it with the rest of the money." I pulled the drawstring purse out of my robes and added her coins. "It's tough to pickpocket dwarves," she observed. "Their purses are much lower than I'm used to." She leaned towards me. "I tried to just stick to people who were rude to us when you asked who they were supporting."

Laughing, I went to knock on Alistair's door.

He made a face when I opened it. "My bath's like _ice_," he complained.

"That's why I'm here," I said. He stepped aside and I reheated his bath as well. I turned to leave, but realized Alistair seemed to have something to say. I had noticed he had a tendency to put his hand on the back of his neck when something was bothering him, and he was doing it now. I stopped, waiting for him to speak.

"Are we doing the right thing?" he asked after a moment. I sighed, sitting on the floor.

"I don't know," I admitted. "Its politics and politics are by their nature dirty. I've read enough to know that. But… what choice do we have?"

"We can _not_ get involved," he said.

"True," I agreed. "But who knows how long it would take them to decide? We could be overrun by the blight before that."

"I'm trying to think of what Duncan would do," Alistair admitted.

"Me too," I agreed. "But he'd probably find a way to get the assembly to promise help, with or without a king, and then be on his way," I said. "I mean, we can't pretend people are going to treat us the same as they would have treated him. They knew and respected Duncan. We're strangers."

"And he wasn't twenty years old," Alistair added. "I'm _sure_ that's part of it. I can tell they think we're… well, not _stupid, _but… I don't know, ignorant. Children."

I nodded. "Yes, I noticed that. Maybe it isn't so bad, though." He raised an eyebrow. "I'd rather be underestimated. Let them think we're idiots. Let _Loghain_ think we're just a couple kids playing dressup. If he doesn't see us as a _real_ threat we'll be a lot safer."

"You've got a point there," Alistair said. "Just the fact that we live makes us a threat to him, but if what we saw this morning was all he can do… well, that isn't bad."

I nodded. "The attack in the commons was a much harder fight."

Alistair turned, gesturing to a cut on his shoulder and grinning. "You're not kidding there. Makes me think getting the dwarves on our side first was a good idea, though."

"Hey, I have them on occasion," I said before taking a closer look at his injury. "If you want I can _try_ to heal it," I offered. "It'll scar."

"Give it a shot," Alistair said, sitting near me. I raised a hand and cast the spell. On my second try the skin began to knit together slowly. He made a face but nodded with satisfaction when I was done. "How are you doing?" Alistair said once his cut was healed. "I really should have waited until we got out to tell you all that."

"I asked," I said, shrugging. "I'd rather know than not know. I wish I hadn't been _there_ when I found out. I mean, standing on your future grave is a bit… distressing."

He chuckled grimly. "At the very least. That was the first time I'd been in the deep roads, it was all I could think of the entire time."

"It just seems like such a horrid way to die," I said. "Alone. Slowly bleeding out. _There._" I sighed. "Forgotten."

"It's not how you die that's important," Alistair said. "It's how you _live_." He looked sad for a moment. "That's what Duncan told me, after I found out. It… it didn't help much at first, but since then I've realized he's right. Especially now that he's… he—" He blinked back tears and I put my arm around his shoulder.

"I miss him, too," I said. We sat quietly.

"I'm sorry," Alistair said, looking embarassed. "I can't keep doing this."

"It's all right," I assured him. "We're not in the middle of battle or anything. Grief doesn't go away overnight." He nodded. "I know _just_ what you need," I announced, an idea springing to mind.

He darted back from me quickly, looking vaguely terrified. "Um, look… it's not that you're not pretty but, well—"

I burst out laughing. "Not _that_!" I said. "I was going to say we need to go and get supremely _drunk_. Maybe try that dwarven ale? People talk about it so much, I'm curious."

He blushed. "Yes. Yes, I think I need a drink. Or several, so I can wash the taste of foot from my mouth."

I climbed to my feet. "No harm done. It was kind of impressive to see you move that fast, actually." He still looked embarrassed. "I'm going to go get cleaned up, meet you downstairs? I'll see if Sten, Morrigan, and Leliana want to join us." He nodded. I reheated the water in his bath since it had cooled while we talked and returned to my room.

Or rather, I tried to return to my room. More angry dwarves from the Harrowmont faction were standing in the hall. They attacked as soon as they saw me. I didn't have my staff, so I had to rely on nothing but spells. After a moment Alistair threw his door open, sword in hand. He charged towards them and began smashing anyone I froze.

"Well. That was unexpected," I said, looking at the bodies.

"At this rate his supporters will all be _dead_ before the vote."

Leliana came out into the hall. "What's going on? I heard yelling." She looked down and saw the bodies. I explained what happened.

"This is absurd," I said. "I really don't know if I like an inn where we're attacked in the halls."

Leliana seemed to consider that. "I bet if we raise a fuss our rooms will be free!" I grinned, and she must have realized how much I liked the plan. "Leave it to me," she said. "Wait here. Look shocked."

Alistair and I stood around, looking at the bodies and trying to practice our best 'shocked' expressions. A moment later Leliana returned, her face streaked with tears, innkeeper in tow. "And after the horrors of the deep roads," she was saying, "we try and relax, only for this! We paid good money for these rooms, and we're attacked in the very halls!" She went on and on, crying all the while, until the innkeeper looked like he wanted to pull his hair out.

He looked at me. "Listen, if I refund your rooms and give you drinks on the house will you shut her up?"

"Sure," I said. He handed me several coins and walked off in a huff. "Very impressive!" I said to Leliana. She grinned. "We're going to get drunk after we clean up. Care to join?"

"Oh yes!" she said.

I nodded and ducked into my room, locking the door and slipping into the bath after reheating it. I couldn't stop myself from sighing with pleasure as I laid back, even if the tub was a bit short for me. I had been washing in streams and bathhouses for almost two months. I hadn't felt _clean_ for almost two months. If I wasn't hungry I don't think anything would have coaxed me from the tub. But I was starved, so I reluctantly climbed out and dried off. Slipping into my other set of robes, I used the bathwater to wash my dirty ones, hanging them to dry.

Sten said he had no interest in joining the 'mass suicide' downstairs, and would take his meal in his room so he could meditate on the Qun. Morrigan laughed and rolled her eyes when I invited her to join us, so I guess that was a no.

I found Leliana and Alistair already sitting downstairs. "Just us," I said. Food was already on the table, I helped myself to some of it and poured ale from the pitcher. "What kind of ale is this?"

"Surface ale," Alistair said. "Leliana thinks we can't handle the dwarven ale."

"I'm telling you," she insisted. "I drank a thimble! Just a thimble, and I have _no idea_ what happened for a week after."

"Sounds like a challenge," I laughed.

We continued with the surface ale, though. "So I decided something," I slurred to Alistair, about eight pints in.

"Do I _want_ to know?" Leliana was singing on the small stage, completely drunk. Alistair and I were, if anything, worse.

"What?" I said.

"Nothing," he replied quickly, finishing his ale.

"I decided that thirty years thing? That's fine. I don't care."

"_Really_?" he said. "That was quick."

"Well, yeah. Buuuutttt… I'm pretty sure they would have executed me in the tower. Or sent me to Aeonar, which is basically the same thing but slower and worse. So it's really not thirty years to live. Its thirty extra years. You know?"

"That makes sense," he said.

I nodded. "And you know, even if not… I don't think I'd care. I mean, look at this. We're in _Orzammar!_ We're drunk off our asses in a tavern in Orzammar. How _great_ is that? Would you _ever_ have imagined yourself here a year ago?"

"No," he admitted. "I suppose that is one bright side. It's kind of amazing to see all this."

"Yes!" I cheered, slamming my hands on the table and nearly spilling our drinks. Several people looked over and I lowered my voice. "Better thirty years free than a hundred in prison. So that's just fine with me." I pounded the rest of my ale and poured another. "Although you know what _sucks_?"

"What?"

"Apparently dwarves think humans have freakishly long limbs. Oh well."

He actually laughed at that. "Aw, poor Maggie."

"You know?" I laughed. "Let's make sure our next stop is somewhere that has a bunch of men who like human mages."

He shook his head. At one point a drunk dwarf came over to yell at us about something, but I didn't really understand what he was talking about. Something about how he thought we would be able to help him but now he knows we're like all the rest. When I tried to get him to actually explain the hostile and vague statement he just stormed off.

"That was odd," I said.

"Very," Alistair agreed. "I'd wonder if he confused us for someone else but I don't think that's likely around here."

Leliana decided to go to bed. Without her to keep watch on us Alistair and I decided we couldn't visit Orzammar and _not_ try the famous dwarven ale. I could remember us getting into a drawn out discussion about how fast we could travel from one place to another if we had griffons, and after that nothing.

"Ugh. Andraste's bloodstained knickers," I groaned, head pounding as I lost the fight against returning to consciousness.

"That is the most _disgusting_ curse I've ever heard."

My eyes snapped open and I sat up. I winced from the sudden movement, realizing just how _extremely _hungover I was. I was sitting up on a bed and, after a second, I determined it was not _my_ bed. "Alistair?" I squeaked, afraid to turn my head.

"Who else," he sighed. "And no, _nothing_ happened. I didn't know where your key was, it wasn't in any of the pockets I dared to check, and didn't want to search you for it."

"Thank the Maker," I sighed. He raised an eyebrow, looking amused. "Um… no offense. But, well, we were drunk and if anything did it would have probably been because I took advantage of you. I'd feel really, really guilty if I did that. And I tied my key to my wrist so I wouldn't drop it."

"I'm kind of insulted you assume I wouldn't be able to turn you down." I laughed, shaking my head. He really had no idea. "And no, that isn't me issuing a challenge. I did _that_ last night!"

"_What?"_

He burst into laughter. "Oh, that was worth it for the look on your face. No, I challenged you to drink a whole pint of dwarven ale. Which you did. Unfortunately that was followed by you throwing up all over both of us, bursting into tears, and calling me Jowan until you passed while I was trying to get you up the stairs." He rolled his eyes. "Thanks, by the way. It's so nice to be confused for a maleficar when you're drunk. At least tell me he has decent hair."

I shrugged. "It was just kind of… there. About the same color as mine. Jowan wasn't really the type to worry about that sort of thing. No, you have the same sense of humor," I said. "You should be flattered."

"Flattered?"

"That I confused you for my lifelong best friend and the closest thing I have to a family? Yeah, I don't really think you should see that as an insult."

"Well, not when you put it like _that_," he admitted, actually smiling.

"Go make sure no one's in the hall," I said, climbing to my feet. Alistair gave me a confused look. "Right. If I just walk out and someone sees me will we _ever_ hear the end of it?"

"Probably not," he agreed. Once it was confirmed to be clear, I slipped out and into my own room so I could clean up and attempt to not look completely wrecked for the rest of the day.

"You look _awful_," Leliana said over breakfast. I stared at her and she blushed. "I mean, you look like you don't feel well."

"Overdid things last night," I said. "I'll be fine."

"_You_ tried the dwarven ale!"

"Maybe," I admitted. "Although I've been told it didn't stay down very long, so I don't know how much, if any, I actually ingested." She shook her head, chuckling.

We found the prince's second after we ate, he had already seen both of the nobles we talked to rushing through the assembly in a rage so he knew we kept our end of the deal. Finally, we could meet the man we agreed to support for king.

He was… well, he was _exactly_ what I expected from a noble. Not that I'd ever met any besides the late King Cailan, but something told me Ferelden's deceased monarch wasn't the norm. I was shocked the prince could even manage to sit behind his desk without skidding right off the chair, he was so slick. Beyond slick, in fact. The man was downright _slimy._ "I can't _believe_ we're doing this," Alistair said as we walked to Dust Town to wipe out some crime organization on the prince's behest.

"Well I don't see much choice if we want troops," I replied.

"I know," Alistair sighed. "Ugh, he was just so… slimy." At least I wasn't the only one who thought so.

"At least he takes the darkspawn seriously," I replied.

"Oh _please_," Alistair said. "'_The fulcrum of true evil'_? You don't think that's a bit… over the top?"

"You're saying the darkspawn aren't?"

He sighed. "That's _not_ what I mean."

I brushed off a guard who warned us about entering dust town. "No, I know what you mean. And yes, he's completely full of it. He's also a megalomaniac, perhaps slightly insane, and I really don't have many doubts about the whole killed his brother rumors now. But he'll be a strong ally."

"And Harrowmont wouldn't?"

"I don't think so, no. He would give us troops because he has to, the treaty is pretty ironclad. But he doesn't seem to have the same passion to reclaim the lost territory. The prince wants to take the fight to the darkspawn, that's the kind of person we want in power."

No one could argue about that.

It took us hours just to find out where the carta's base was. We only found out because our questions had attracted their attention, causing them to lay a hasty trap for us. Needless to say, it didn't work.

"What do they teach you on the surface?" one of them men choked out after admitting defeat. "You fight like the bleeding archdemon!"

I almost laughed at that, hoping it was true. I could kill an archdemon that wasn't any stronger than me, after all. I suspected he was exaggerating more than a bit, though. The men told us how to get into their base. I warned them not to be there in a little while.

"Truly?" Morrigan said, after they left. "You let them go free?"

"They surrendered," I said. "I'm not going to kill anyone who admits defeat and drops their weapons. What are we, monsters?"

"They will only continue their criminal activities," Sten said. "It would be prudent to kill them now."

"Maybe. Or maybe they'll try and start over since they've been given a second chance." Sten snorted and Morrigan rolled her eyes. I suppose I deserved that. "But, the carta itself won't exist for much longer, so they certainly won't be working with them. Either way, I don't like that we're here at all, these people don't exactly have a lot of options besides crime. I'm doing the bare minimum to get the prince on the throne and get us our troops. We're not Orzammar's bloody police force."

Unfortunately the bare minimum turned out to be slaughtering our way from one end of their base to the other. The words 'surrender' and 'yield' didn't have much meaning here, apparently, although I did try.

We stumbled out of their hideout and, to our shock, into a small shop in the Commons. The owner seemed even more surprised than we were. "You made a _hole_ in my _wall_!" he shouted.

"That tunnel leads to the carta's base," I said. "Any chance you know anything about _that_?" He stuttered a denial, quickly switching from furious to terrified. Satisfied he really didn't seem to know his shelf hid the carta's escape tunnel, I put everything we looted down on the counter. "How much for all this?" I asked. He said a price. I raised my eyebrow, glancing back at the tunnel. His price doubled. "Great," I said, taking the money and leading everyone out.

Of course, killing dozens, perhaps hundreds, of people wasn't enough. No, how could it be? Not when the prince could send us into the deep roads chasing after some famous genius smith who had most likely been dead for years.

I couldn't help but notice that, all through this, he never bothered to ask where we were staying, despite knowing we couldn't get into the small Warden compound. I mentioned that to Leliana, she nodded in agreement.

There are some _really_ nice things in the royal palace of Orzammar.

"I can't believe you did that," Alistair said as we walked back to our inn.

"Did what?"

"_Robbed the palace!" _he hissed, dropping his voice to a whisper.

"Well, did you hear him offer to pay us? We need supplies if we have to go chase this person down. Torches, lots of preserved foods, we may even need to bring water with us."

He sighed. "I know, but… _stealing_?"

"You have a better plan?" I asked. "Since it's the best I could come up with. We're pretty much fugitives now, that kind of limits legal ways to make money without a chanter's board. It's basically down to theft, murder for hire which I don't think either of us would tolerate, or whoring. If _you_ want to do a stint in a brothel go right ahead, there's one just a couple doors from Tapsters. I sure don't, though."

"No, no," he said quickly. "Theft it is. Theft sounds good. No complaints from me."

"That's what I figured," I said. "Shame, though. You're cute, I bet we could get a lot of money. Not as much as for me, of course, but I'm _much _cuter and I've got that whole 'can control the power of the elements in my hands' thing going on, too."

"Oh ha ha," he said drily. "Well… um… you smell."

I snickered. "That's the _best_ you could come up with? Of _course_ I smell. I've been crawling around in tunnels all day killing people. You smell just as bad. Actually, when it comes down to it, you smell much worse."

"Hey, I'm hungover," he protested. "I'll come up with something better tomorrow."

"Sure you will," I laughed.

Once I had cleaned up I went back out to gather supplies. After buying torches and enough food for a month, just to be sure, I asked what people did for water. The shopkeeper directed me to the Shaperite, where I could rent some kind of rune-enchanted pitcher that would provide water as we needed it.

Despite having found a stolen book for them in our wanderings of the city they didn't seem inclined to give me any sort of discount. I paid out a small fortune so we wouldn't die of dehydration, relived we would at least get some of the coin back when I returned the pitcher.

Back at the inn I showed what I bought to Alistair, who helped divide the food and torches among everyone. "Are we ready, then?" he asked me. The plan was to leave after breakfast.

"As much as we can be," I said. "I think I bought every potion and poultice in the city. Bandages, torches, food, arrows for Leliana, lyrium for me and Morrigan… I can't think of anything else, can you?"

He shrugged. "No, but that's why I'm not in charge. Just tell me what needs to die and point me at it, leave anything more to me and we could all end up lost somewhere in the Hinterlands. Probably without shoes."

I shook my head at that, not quite sure where he got the idea I was any better.

* * *

_ If you haven't seen it yet, Galagraphia did a fantastic pic of Maggie and Anders. It's at_ galagraphia. deviantart. com /art/ Never-Boring-sketch-177678057 _Take a look, you'll just need to remove the spaces.__  
Thanks so much to all my reviewers!  
(and the water rune? I'm saying it's canon, since they mention one in The Stolen Throne.)  
_


	18. The two of you are REALLY Grey Wardens?

A redheaded dwarf who smelled strongly of old ale cornered us near the deep roads entrance. Introducing himself as Oghren, he told me he was the husband of the woman we were looking for.

I looked at him. He was carrying an axe almost as big as he was tall, and it appeared to be well-used, so at the very least he knew what to do in a fight. "Didn't you yell at us in the tavern a couple nights ago?"

"You remembered!" he beamed. "I'm sodding touched." Alistair and I exchanged a glance and he shrugged, gesturing subtly towards the dwarf's axe. Oghren pounded one fist into the other while he spoke, long beard twitching. "Two years I've been trying to get a proper search expedition for her. Two years! If we pool our knowledge we have a chance of finding Branka. Otherwise, good luck," he said.

"All right," I said. It sounded perfectly reasonable, and really, we could use the help from someone more familiar with the deep roads. Besides, he was her husband. If anyone had a vested interest to find her it was him. Sure, the prince had hinted I should make sure she doesn't come out of the deep roads if she would support his opponent, but really, that's just insane. Did he think I was his personal executioner? If she could pick one of the two and get an ass on the throne I'd get my troops from whoever ended up there. That was enough for me. Oghren nodded, looking pleased, and followed us into the deep roads.

"Branka was looking for the Anvil of the Void," Oghren said as soon as we were out of the guard's hearing. "The secret to building golems. It was lost centuries ago, all she knew was that it was built in Ortan Thaig. She planned to start looking there."

Alistair checked our map the prince had given us. "We don't have that."

"Of course you don't," Oghren said. "No one's been there in five hundred years. Branka knew how to get there from Carridan's Cross, but that place is lost, too."

"No," I said, remembering my history. "King Maric, Queen Rowan, and Loghain were in Ortan Thaig. I read about it. When they had to get around the Orlesian army in the forest they cut through the deep roads. That's where they met the Legion of the Dead, they volunteered to help them fight."

"Well are they here to give you directions?" Oghren asked. I shrugged. It didn't make me any less right.

"We have Carridan's Cross," Alistair said, changing the subject. "It's on our map."

"I figured as much," he said. "Must be what Bhelen's had his men looking for." Oghren examined the map and announced we could be there in three days. We set out, following his directions. I'd heard dwarves had a natural ability to find their way around underground. It certainly couldn't be any worse than Alistair's patchy at best map reading. I tried to make small talk with Oghren since all I knew of him was that he had been married to this missing woman. He just snorted, saying something about how he "wasn't here to chat." He was here to drink, though. Every once in a while I'd catch a glimpse of him sipping from a flask.

"I think he's drunk," Alistair whispered to me on the second day of our trip as we walked.

"He's been drunk since we met him," I pointed out. "It doesn't seem to decrease his skill in a fight, though."

"True enough," he agreed. "He's got enthusiasm. Maybe we should warn him not to yell so much, though. We might be fine getting darkspawn blood in our mouths but they won't."

I glanced back. "He's Orzammar Warrior caste and probably has a good ten or fifteen years on both of us. From what I know he's been fighting darkspawn since before we could tie our own boots." I shrugged. "Go ahead if you want. I don't think he likes me. He asked why I was wearing a dress and then started laughing."

I could hear Morrigan teasing Sten as we walked. He made a sarcastic crack about her clothing and I snickered. Really, Sten was quite funny if you paid enough attention. It was very subtle, but he had a definite sarcastic streak. We ended up together on watch that night, sitting not far from where everyone else slept.

"Hey Sten," I asked, speaking quietly so I wouldn't wake the others.

"Yes?"

"Is Ferelden very different from your home?" I still hadn't had the nerve to ask him about mages there. I didn't know if I ever would, to be honest. If it was really horrible I might have trouble sleeping at night wondering if he thought I deserved whatever that was. I _was_ curious about where he came from, though.

"To put it lightly," he said. "Seheron is warm and sunny. The smells of tea, incense and the sea cover the city. Ferelden is cold and dismal, and smells of wet dogs."

"And garbage," I added, snickering. "That was the first thing I noticed when I left the tower. But the tower also smelled like dogs, so I was already used to that."

"I was trying to forget that part," he said drily.

"Second thing I noticed was grass, though. Grass is nice."

He made a small noise that might have been a grunt of agreement. "No one here is satisfied with their life. Everyone longs to be something they're not. Your farmers want to be nobles, your nobles want to be warriors."

"You don't like the idea of someone changing their lot in life?"

"Why would they bother? You cannot discard who you are like an old cloak. It remains with you for all your days."

"But they might be happier," I pointed out. After all, my lot in life was to live out my days in the tower, teaching teenagers how to freeze things solid for no real reason. I was certainly happier outside.

"Happiness is fleeting. You cannot build a future on something that fragile. Only duty and responsibility truly endure."

I thought about that. He might have a point, to some extent. I was happy now, or as happy as I could be camping in the deep roads. It would be stupid for me to assume that would always be the case. It would be stupid to assume I'd actually live to see the end of the blight, come to think of it. If I had to pick between doing what would bring us closer to ending this nightmare or doing what would make me happy I knew I'd go with the first since that was just the right thing to do. I was one person, but my duty as a Grey Warden trumped anything I wanted. "You're right," I said finally.

"Pardon?"

"You're right. Happiness is fleeting. Duty is more important." I nodded. "I thought about it, you're right. In an ideal world your duty would be something that you enjoyed, but that won't always be the case."

"Duty is not supposed to be _fun_, Warden."

"It can be, though," I said. "I mean, killing darkspawn? That can be great fun, don't you think? It's nice to be able to use my magic without repercussion, and I'm always happy to know that we've reduced the number of those bastards in the world after. But that's my duty, too." I sighed, looking around. "But I'd do it regardless, since I have no choice. I'm just lucky I ended up doing something I _can_ enjoy. If I wasn't a Warden I would have been stuck spending the rest of my life teaching in the tower. I'd loathe that."

Sten regarded me for a moment. "You are not suited for a life of teaching. If that is the duty they would assign to you this country is even more flawed than I suspected. It would be absurd for you and detrimental for anyone who required the knowledge you possess."

"You're telling me," I said.

"Yes, I am."

"No," I clarified. "That's a figure of speech. It means I agree." He snorted. I suppose Sten wasn't big on figures of speech or slang. "Is there anything you _like_ about Ferelden?"

"Some of your art is interesting. Your painters have ways of depicting figures that our people have not yet mastered. I was surprised by this." He paused, looking thoughtful. "And… there is a thing you have, a food. It is baked like bread, but sweet and crisp. We do not have those."

"Cookies?" I asked, not quite sure. "Little and round?"

"Yes!" I'd never seen Sten look so animated. "We have no such thing in our lands."

"I love cookies," I admitted. "Have you ever had the kind with bits of chocolate in them? Those are my favorite."

"I have not," he said. "I was not aware they came in different varieties. The kind I had were uniform throughout and tasted of ginger."

"Gingersnaps," I said. "Those are good, too. As soon as we get back to the surface we'll stop at the first bakery we see. If we're nice they might even share the recipe so you can bring it home with you."

He made a face. "I cannot go home again." Sten looked truly miserable, but I'd figured out enough about him to know he'd explain if he wanted to and prying would just annoy him.

"I'm sorry," I said, putting my hand on his shoulder in what I hoped was a comforting manner. Really, seeing someone who was normally so stoic and deadpan looking that miserable was just _disturbing_. I would have probably broken into song just to get him to stop making the 'I want to cry' face. "You can stay with us." The Grey Wardens could certainly do far worse than having a warrior like Sten on their side, after all.

Sten looked shocked. "Thank you," he finally said before going silent, his expression making it clear there would be no further discussion.

The next day we were attacked no less than half a dozen times before lunch. I normally wouldn't be surprised by this. I mean, deep roads, you expect darkspawn attacks, right?

What you really don't expect, though, is a group of raving lunatics in favor of an opposing political candidate. Honestly, did they think this would work when the first few just ended up with us a bit tired and their side a bit _dead_? I was fairly surprised they made it so far in and didn't get attacked while waiting for us, though. We cut through them with such ease there was no way they encountered any darkspawn, they wouldn't have lived to confront us at all. I vaguely wondered if we'd be facing down raving lunatics screaming their support for the prince if I picked the other side, but decided I didn't particularly care.

I started pestering Oghren for more information as we got closer to Carridan's Cross. I barely knew what a golem _was_, other than one reading that one had fought with the rebellion under control of their mage Wilhelm. He did his best to explain, and told me how they had all been made on this same anvil, the one Branka went looking for. I had to admit, they sounded pretty amazing. I could see why someone might risk their life to get that knowledge back.

Oghren seemed almost overwhelmed when we reached Carridan's Cross. He had told us it would take three days, but it was actually four since we were constantly fighting off darkspawn attacks. It turned out to be an enormous intersection of roads. "Used to be you could get anywhere in the old empire from here," he said. Sure enough, there were rusting metal signs in the dwarva language marking off what I assumed to be far-flung cities and settlements accessible from each branch. Oghren translated a few of them out loud as he scanned them. "Ah," he finally said. "This is the way. Orton Thaig."

"Is that a city?" I asked, not quite understanding.

"No, it's a _Thaig_," he looked annoyed. He went on to explain and, from what I could tell, it was basically just a city, only underground. I wasn't about to argue by pointing that out, though.

It was another four days before we reached the thaig. Entering the cavern, I sucked in my breath, amazed. An enormous statue stood in the middle, surrounded by abandoned buildings stretching on further than I could see. Even seeing the streetlights were long dark, enchantments worn away, it was light enough to make our way through from the lava alone. Managing to find a few items a young girl in Orzammar had asked me to look for, I turned around, hearing a man shout.

"Alistair," I whispered, pointing. It had taken me a second to realized it _was_ a man since that strange pulling feeling in my head was telling me he was a darkspawn.

"I know," he said.

"Do you think he's that person's son?" I asked. We had encountered a middle aged woman whose son was lost in the deep roads.

"Only one way to find out," Alistair said. We were ambushed by a group of spiders, but slowly walked down the tunnel he had run towards once they had been killed.

The dwarf started screaming as soon as he saw our group, accusing us of being there to steal from him. "I'm not going to steal anything, I promise," I said, holding my hands up.

"Pretty lady," he replied. "Pretty eyes, pretty hair… smells like the steam of burning water, blue as the deepest rock." Oh, now that wasn't _at all_ disturbing.

"Someone likes you," Alistair whispered in my ear, obviously fighting back laughter. I elbowed him.

"You won't take anything from Ruck? You won't take his shiny worms or pretty rocks?"

"Your name is Ruck?" I asked.

"Ruck not pretty name, not pretty like lady." I repressed a shudder and confirmed his mother was the woman we had met in the city. Amazingly, he remembered her and began to panic, demanding I promise not to tell her he lived.

"All right," I said. "I won't tell her."

He looked visibly relieved. "Once you eat, once you takes in the darkness… you not miss the light so much," the man said. I think I gasped at that. He was _eating_ darkspawn? Better to eat the spiders, the deepstalkers, _anything_ but the darkspawn. "You know, do you not? Ruck sees, yes. He sees the darkness inside you."

Trying to hide my disgust I muttered something about how I was different since I was a Grey Warden.

"Grey like the stone. Guardian against the darkness. Beautiful like waterfalls under the lichen."

"Want us to leave you two alone?" Alistair whispered. I glared at him before turning back to the madman and trying to figure out if he could tell us anything about Branka. Once I figured we had enough information I thanked him and started to back away. He called me nice and said after we left he would imagine smelling my hair.

"Well, I might vomit," I said as we left.

Alistair laughed. "I thought you were hoping to meet someone. He seemed like your type."

"What?" I said, shocked. "How do you figure _that?_"

Alistair gave me an innocent look. "Well, male and conscious. I mean, that _is_ your type, right?" He walked on, ignoring my glares. "And he even had short dark hair, just like Daveth and Kit. So if that's what you go for, hey, we can wait a bit."

"I hate you," I hissed.

"You do not," he replied, blithely walking along.

"Wait and see," I said, narrowing my eyes. "I'm on first watch. I think you'll look good bald."

He actually made a shrieking noise and backed away, holding his hands over his head. "What, are you trying to burn my hair so it's dark, too? Keep back, I'm on to your schemes!" I laughed, he actually looked nervous.

Morrigan fell into step with me. "Actually, Alistair, Maggie has gone into great detail with regards to her preference for long hair. What was it you said? Something to… grab on to?"

"Exactly!" I agreed, realizing she was trying to make him uncomfortable. "Mmm… there was this one friend of mine in the tower, Brennan… he had this fantastic long blonde hair, and he wore it with two little braids on the side." I glanced over at Alistair. He was listening but trying not to show it. I decided a bit of payback was in order. "Ah, I miss him," I sighed. "He was _fantastic_. And sometimes when he was on top, if his hair fell forward it would brush against my face. So hot. Even better was when it would tickle my thighs whe—"

"Ack!" Alistair said, looking horrified. "Stop! Just stop! I really don't want to hear any more."

"You sure?" I said. "I mean, the crazy lunatic really isn't my type at all, but maybe I should elaborate so you don't make the same mistake again." Grinning, I went on. "There was this other mage, completely adorable elf named Davy with amazing long red hair. The way sweat would stick it to his face when we—"

"I am _not listening_," Alistair said before literally covering his ears and singing "la la la la" over and over.

Morrigan and I laughed. Even Leliana giggled a little. "Ha! Tell me to sleep with the lunatic, will you?" I muttered.

"The two of you are _really _Grey Wardens?" Oghren asked, looking at me dubiously. "You're sure?"

"Yes," I said, not sure what he was talking about. "Why?"

He shrugged. "I'd always heard a Grey Warden's eyes shone with the light of purity. That they were surrounded by a great glowing nimbus and, if it was a woman, their large but chaste bosom would heave magnificently." He stared at my chest.

"Lovely," I said, crossing my arms over my bust and glaring at him. He didn't even have the grace too look apologetic, but I suspect he was too drunk. "Sorry. Alistair's chaste enough for both of us."

"Hey!" Alistair shouted.

"Darkspawn!" I called, pointing to a bridge leading to the other half of the city… no, thaig, cutting off any further discussion on Alistair's chastity and my lack thereof.

"Maker's breath," I heard Leliana shout. I ran closer to her and looked over the bridge. I had to admit, her statement pretty much summed it up. Alistair and Sten were currently battling with two ten foot tall stone figures while Oghren took on what appeared to be a _ghost_, of all things. I didn't know which was more improbable.

I tried freezing the ghost and, to my surprise, it worked. The next swing of Oghren's axe shattered it. The stone man would be more challenging. Realizing stone, in and of itself, could shatter, I focused and cast a field of magic around one, watching as it slowly constricted. The figure shattered in a cloud of rocks and dust.

"I think we've found some of Orzammar's lost golems," I finally said when we were clear. I wondered who was controlling them, but for all we knew they could be broken, randomly attacking anything or anyone that passed.

We couldn't find any evidence of more people in the thaig, but eventually Oghren did stumble across a journal. "This is Branka's handwriting," he called, reading it over. It included information on where they were going and the beginnings of a message for Oghren. Knowing she had him in mind put the dwarf in a much better mood. "Looks like the dead trenches is our next stop," he said, pointing it out on a map. "They say darkspawn nest there, whole herds of 'em. But, if that's where Branka went, then that's where I'm going."

I yawned, exhausted. "How far is it?"

"Couple days," he said. "Not far." I noticed Alistair and Leliana looked exhausted. If Sten or Morrigan were they hid it well, which would be in keeping with both of them.

"Let's make camp here and head out after some rest," I suggested. "We've cleared this area, who knows what we'll find up ahead."

Oghren looked annoyed but since Alistair immediately dropped to the ground stretching his legs and groaning, with Leliana only seconds behind him, he was outvoted. I could understand his frustration. If I'd spent two years looking for someone I'd be annoyed to wait after finally finding a definite clue. But, if the darkspawn were half as bad as he said in that area sleep may be hard to come by for the next few days.

Of course, trying to sleep when you knew that was ahead of you isn't exactly easy.

I was exhausted when we did set out the next day. It might have even been later the same day, for all I knew. Without the sun I had no way to tell what time it was, where one day ended and the next began.

We were no less exhausted after reaching the dead trenches. Peering over the edge I held my hand up for everyone to wait. Alistair kneeled next to me and looked over. Lines of darkspawn filled the pit, marching on. I couldn't believe how many there were. Hundreds, probably thousands. Maybe even tens of thousands. They stretched further than I could see in both directions. A shrieking noise caught my attention and I looked up. I could hear Alistair mutter something behind me. "Stay down," I hissed to everyone, the dragon's shadow passing over us. I silently prayed it would keep going.

I'd read about people who said their blood "ran cold" before, but always found it a bit melodramatic. At that moment I wouldn't have been surprised to find solid ice in my veins.

"Was that…?" Leliana began after it passed, eyes wide with fear.

"Yes," Alistair and I said at once. We'd both seen it often enough to know, although never while _awake_.

"Are you not tasked with killing the archdemon?" Sten asked. "It passes overhead and you did nothing."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, Sten, it's good to know _you_ can fly. I certainly can't, and thus couldn't fight something hundreds of feet over my head. But next time you can get your wings out and carry us up there, yes?"

He grunted but didn't say anything else. I didn't bother hiding that I was rolling my eyes.

"Did it see us?" I asked Alistair as we continued on, high above the marching darkspawn.

"Maybe," Alistair said. "I don't think so, though. It would have killed us right away."

I nodded. "I have no idea how to kill something that big," I admitted. "I don't even know if I could freeze it."

"We'll figure something out," he said, not sounding terribly sure of himself. I nodded.

To my surprise we came across a group of well-armed dwarves fighting darkspawn around the next corner. Quickly joining in, we pressed ahead of them to kill the group who were slowly trickling over the bridge a few at a time. It was clear they were trying to wear them down by stretching the battle on.

"Damn it!" I screamed, seeing an ogre storming towards us. Alistair, roaring, charged towards it. I was nearly overwhelmed by a group of Shrieks so I had to hope he knew what he was doing.

The last of my tormentors went down just as a large object sailed overhead. Morrigan and I, who were standing towards the back as usual, exchanged a curious glance. I turned around to see a figure in splintmail crumpled on the ground, a hurlock standing over him ready to slam his sword down. "No!" I screamed, throwing off lightning as I ran towards him.

Alistair was trying to climb to his feet, blood covering his face. "New tactic," he muttered when he saw me, offering an apologetic smile. "Bite ankles." Joke made, he collapsed again, eyes closed. I was so shocked only Morrigan's quick frost spell kept me from getting skewered by the hurlock.

Clear, I dropped to my knees near him. "No, no, no," I muttered, checking him over. He was still breathing, but it wasn't regular, and his head was bleeding. "Sten!" I shouted. The giant warrior walked over. "Help me carry him. Let's go back to those dwarves. Maybe they have a healer." There were healers who worked without magic, after all. They weren't as good, but it would be better than nothing.

Sten nodded, looking concerned, and instead of picking up Alistair's shoulders as I expected, so I could take his legs, he scooped him clear off the ground, managing to carry him as though he was nothing more than a large child.

"This is bad," I whispered to Morrigan as we walked across the bridge. She nodded in agreement. I closed my eyes and took a breath, trying to calm down. Not only was Alistair the only other Grey Warden in the country, which made both of us more valuable than our weight in gold as far as I could tell, I was actually starting to think of him as a friend. Sure, he was a templar, but… from what I'd seen, he was a _really_ lousy one. I spoke with the leader of the dwarves briefly, he recognized Alistair and I as Grey Wardens somehow. They were, apparently, the Legion of the Dead. I'd read a little about them, from what I could tell they were the only people who fought darkspawn as much as Grey Wardens. I guess that made us comrades of a sort. They seemed to think so, since they offered to let us make camp with them. Oghren and Sten both grumbled about quitting so soon but a glare from me silenced them both.

Unfortunately the "of the Dead" part meant their goal was to die out here, they had no healers and only the most basic of first aid supplies. Morrigan and I managed to get Alistair out of his armor. We assessed his injuries, broken ribs being the most obvious from the strange and asymmetrical look his chest had taken on. That was quite obvious once his splintmail was set aside. "I believe this wrist is broken," she added, wrapping it in a bandage.

I was washing the blood from his face and hair, trying to see where the injury was. "It looks like… yeah. Cracked skull. That's… not good."

"Lovely," she said. "Will he be _more_ dimwitted now?" I gave her a dirty look.

"Let's, um… focus on the head injury first," I said. She had put his wrist in a splint with a poultice while I worked on cleaning the blood, it could stay as it was.

"Have you secretly managed to teach yourself healing?" she asked.

"No," I snapped. "We need to at least try, though. If we can't heal him…." I wouldn't think about that possibility. Glancing back at her I emptied my pockets. "I have plenty of lyrium."

She sighed. "It would be a shame for him to die so soon, after all of my mother's hard work keeping you both alive. Fine. I will help you."

We got to work. After more than an hour she and I looked up, both of us drenched in sweat and exhausted. "I think that's it," I said. We'd healed the bones in his skull and the broken ribs. Unfortunately Alistair hadn't woken up, so I wasn't quite sure what else was wrong.

"I cannot go on," Morrigan said, drinking another potion. "If I do not get _some_ rest—"

"Go on," I said. "I'll work on the wrist and keep an eye on him. I'm not quiet addled yet."

She gave me a strange look before getting up and walking to her bedroll. Although she hated sleeping near the rest of us I'd put my foot down when we entered the deep roads. One person too far away could be killed before we noticed, or attract more attention than a single campsite. Three potions later I'd managed to get his wrist healed. By now I had taken too much lyrium. I could barely focus my eyes, much less my mind. All I could do was wait and see if we'd done enough.

A noise caused me to wake with a start. I hadn't even realized I fell asleep. "Did something chew me up and spit me out?" Alistair mumbled, still laying down but with both hands on his head. "Since I _feel_ like something chewed me up and spit me out. Something big. Maybe a dragon. Maybe two dragons."

"An ogre kicked you," I supplied, relief washing over me. "Morrigan and I did the best we could."

"Are you sure she didn't hurt me more?" he asked. "That seems like something she'd do." Alistair pulled himself to a sitting position, still holding one hand to his head. "Wow. That's… kinda fun. I'm all lightheaded. It's almost like being drunk!"

I gave him a dirty look. "She worked until she was so exhausted she could barely move." I pointed to the other side of the camp, where everyone but Morrigan was still up and about. She was on her side near the fire, sleeping and completely oblivious to the noise around her. "I know you don't like each other but she's not going to just let you _die_."

"Huh," he said. "She probably just did it so she could keep torturing me." Rolling my eyes I asked how he felt. "Horrible," Alistair said. "But the kind of horrible that will get better." He looked over at me. "Your eyes are the size of dinner plates. How much lyrium have you had?"

"I don't know," I said. "A lot. It was hard work. You know we're not healers! I thought…" I made a face. "I was really worried."

"If it helps I can promise to try not to get severely injured again," Alistair offered. "There's really nothing like a brush with death to make you… not like death much." I laughed at that, doubling over until tears were rolling down my face.

"It wasn't _that_ funny. Was it?"

Laughing too hard to speak I pointed to the pile of empty bottles next to me. "Fifteen," he said after counting them. "And half are yours?" Alistair sounded horrified. I shook my head, still cracking up. "All of them?" I managed to nod, sucking in a harsh breath while trying to regain control. "Wow. All right, loopy, let's get you in bed before you manage to fall into the lava." I could only laugh even harder as Alistair stood up and herded me towards where Leliana had already set my bedroll out.

* * *

_I left most of Ruck's dialogue as it was in the game since really, it can't get much creepier than it already was.  
Thanks so much to all my reviewers!_


	19. That's what I figured you'd say

Alistair woke up not long after I did. Dane had been sitting between our bedrolls, apparently realizing neither of us were in good health. He insisted he felt much better, and after wishing the Legion of the Dead luck we continued on. "I never thanked you," he said as we walked. "You saved my life. I _know _Morrigan helped, but I also know she wouldn't have if it wasn't for you. You're a real friend."

"Alistair, do you really think I'd just let you _die_?"

"Well, no," he admitted. "But you did more than you had to. I can tell it took a lot out of you, and I'm sure you feel pretty awful from all the lyrium you drank. And you didn't have to sit with me until I woke up."

"I didn't quite manage that," I reminded him. I had passed out before he regained consciousness.

"Yeah, but you didn't even have to try." He shook his head. "Maker's breath, I'm trying to thank you. Just say you're welcome and we can get back to the blood and gore part of the day."

"You're welcome," I said, laughing. "But you're also getting new armor," I added. "Something heavier than splintmail."

"I like my armor," he replied.

"Too bad," I said. "You're going to start wearing a helmet, too."

He shook his head. "Anything else, Mom?"

"No, just that." I sighed. "I don't think you realize how bad you were hurt. The ogre crushed half your ribcage when it kicked you, and you landed on your skull after."

"Yeah, but it all worked out. You fixed me!" I suppressed the urge to strangle him.

"Barely," I said. "And it took more than half the lyrium we had with us. If anyone else gets hurt, or we get into a tough fight, we could very easily run out. What about heavy chainmail? That would look nice on you. We could get a set made as soon as we get back into the city."

"Maybe," he said, sounding resigned. That meant yes. Or it would once I dragged him into the first smiths we saw.

"Do you know what that fool templar did?" Morrigan said to me that evening when we made camp.

I sighed. "What now?" They _were_ like children.

"He _thanked_ me for healing him! As though I did it out of some sort of personal fondness!" She looked disgusted by the idea. "As much as it pains me to admit it, we cannot afford to lose _any_ Grey Wardens, even one as useless as him."

"He was trying to be _nice_," I said. Really, she was mad because he _thanked_ her?

"I do not need kindness from _him_," she said. "Do not forget what he thinks of our kind."

"Well, he thinks _you're _mean and I'm pretty sure he thinks _I'm_ a tramp, but beyond that Alistair doesn't seem to have any harsh opinions. You _know_ he's not a templar, not really."

She just shook her head, clearly not believing me.

We were approaching something big. I could almost see red at the edge of my line of sight, and my brain felt like it wanted to jump clean out of my head. "All right, one of you Wardens better tell us what's going on," Oghren said. "You're both as skittish as a nug in dust town."

"Oh, are those the little subterranean bunny-pigs?" Leliana asked. "They're adorable!"

He groaned. "They're not _pets_, they're _food_. And I still want to know what's wrong."

"There's… something up ahead," Alistair said. "Something big."

"Is it the archdemon?" Sten asked, ever practical.

"Have we wet our trousers?" Alistair replied. "No. Not _that_ big. I don't know what it is. I've never sensed anything like it."

"You can tell them apart?" Leliana said, amazed.

Alistair cleared his throat. "No comment," I said with a shrug. She just giggled, used to our constant secrets.

I could hear a woman speaking as we walked through a maze of tunnels and passages. "_First day, they come and catch everyone,_" muttered a disembodied voice.

"Is that Branka's voice?" I asked Oghren.

He shook his head, obviously disturbed. "No… it's familiar, but I can't quite place it. It sounds… wrong."

We followed the voice, which seemed to lead us ever closer to whatever it was Alistair and I could sense. "_Second day, they beat us and eat some for meat."_

"Is she talking about darkspawn?" I asked Alistair.

_"Third day, the men are all gnawed on again."_

"Maybe?" he said. "They do, um, eat people. Sometimes. We don't know if it's because they're actually hungry or just to be… horrifying. It's tough to tell with them."

_"Fourth day, we wait and fear for our fate."_

"Do they _keep_ prisoners?" I asked him. "I know they take people for food, but do they _keep _them? That's what it sounds like she's describing."

"Well," he said, "she also sounds insane, so who knows. As far as I know they don't, although someone corrupted enough to become a ghoul will stay with them voluntarily."

_"Fifth day, they return and it's another girl's turn."_

I swallowed down a knot of fear, wondering if there was something special that darkspawn did to women. Maybe that was why Alistair didn't know. "I don't like the sound of this," Leliana said, walking closer to us.

_"Sixth day, her screams we hear in our dreams."_

"Me neither," I agreed. Looking back at Morrigan I caught a nervous expression on her face. She wrapped her arms around herself as if chilled. Apparently I wasn't the only one to wonder why the crazy poet made a point of specifying gender.

The eerie words continued as we dug through forgotten tombs for missing keys, fighting ghosts. "_Seventh day, she grew as in her mouth they spew."_

"'Tis most disturbing," Morrigan admitted. "Darker and darker."

_"Eighth day, we hated as she is violated." _I choked. Violated was a _very_ specific phrase. I could only think of one meaning. Picturing the darkspawn I felt nauseous.

"Alistair, is there something you should tell us about darkspawn?" I said, glancing at him. "Something perhaps of importance to the women in the party?"

_"Ninth day, she grins and devours her kin." _I shuddered, wishing whoever it was would just _shut up_.

"I don't _know_, Maggie," he said, sounding almost as disturbed as I felt. "I've been a Grey Warden for just six months longer than you. They didn't have time to tell me everything!"

"_Now she does feast, and she's become the beast."_

At last we found our demented poet.

"Hespith!" Oghren said, recognizing the woman. "By the stone, what happened to you? Where's Branka?"

"This doesn't _look_ like darkspawn corruption," I said. "It's… different." She was puffy and swollen, with strange dark patches on her skin. She smelled… wrong. Worse than wrong. She smelled like something already long dead.

The woman began ranting, screaming about being fed her family members by the darkspawn, about someone named Laryn who 'went first.' "Ancestors preserve us," she mumbled. "Forgive me. I was her captain and didn't stop her. Her lover and I could not turn her. But Branka… no, Branka cannot be forgiven. Not for what she did. Not for what she let _them_ do to us."

Knowing I would regret it, I asked what Branka did. The woman reacted violently, refusing to speak of her before running off.

"I don't like this," I said, feeling the need to state the obvious. I had no idea what had, or was, happening to that woman, but if Branka was somehow responsible… I didn't really know if I could deal with someone who would sit by while her family was killed so easily.

"Branka couldn't have known about this," Oghren said, more to himself than any of us. "That… that _thing _used to be a cousin. And there's worse to come? Branka has to be able to explain this." I didn't have any way to respond. He seemed to be trying to convince himself she hadn't been responsible, but all the information we had said she was. No one mentioned the comment about Hespith being her lover. It just seemed like adding insult to injury at this point.

We continued on, still hearing Hespith's flat voice, now talking about Branka's obsession with the anvil, about what the darkspawn had done to her. Whatever Alistair and I sensed was much closer now. "_She swelled and turned grey and she smelled like them. They remade her in their image. Then she made more of them," _came the voice. I remembered her swollen face and the stench emanating off her and shuddered. Whatever they were doing, she seemed to be well into the process.

"Whatever it is, we're very close," Alistair said.

I nodded in agreement. "Around the next corner?" He made a sound of confirmation and we all readied our weapons.

"_Broodmother_,"called Hespith as we turned the corner. I stumbled to a stop.

"Maker's breath," Alistair said. "_What_ _is that_?"

"By all that is right!" Morrigan cried out, turning her face away in horror. She actually took a step back, not even objecting when Leliana grabbed her arm. I stumbled back with them.

An enormous beast was in the cavern, as tall as a house, with rows of swollen teats like an animal. Tentacles waved around her as she howled, her stench almost overwhelming. I glanced at her face and shook my head, grabbing Leliana's arm simply because she was next to me and I felt the need to touch another person. "No," I muttered. "That… that was a _woman_. A person!"

"Now it is an abomination," Sten said. Even he looked disgusted.

By unspoken agreement we all rushed forward, attacking. Morrigan and I tried to keep the monster frozen so the others could get close. Darkspawn flooded the room and Leliana stood with us, picking them off with her bow so the warriors wouldn't be attacked from two sides. I lost count of how many lyrium potions I'd drank, creeping closer for more direct attacks after each one.

"Maggie, get _back_," Alistair shouted at me as I aimed a lightning bolt over his shoulder.

"I can do this!" I replied, freezing her again and following it with several bolts from my staff. Drinking another potion I cast another lightning bolt before a tentacle sent me flying backwards. "Ow," I muttered, climbing unsteadily to my feet. _You bitch_, I thought irrationally, running forward with a scream as I cast another frost spell, before hitting the monster with my staff.

"No more lyrium," Alistair shouted, glaring at me. "Someone _get her back_," he called over his shoulder. It was too late, though. One of the tentacles grabbed me around the waist, hoisting me in the air, kicking and screaming.

I suppose I provided a handy distraction, though, since while the broodmother was focused on trying to squeeze me into a pulp Alistair was able to jump up onto her, slamming his sword into her throat and taking her head off.

"Oof," I said, dropping to the ground when the dead tentacle released me. I was sore, but nothing seemed to be really damaged.

Alistair spun on his heel, grabbing me by the collar of my robes and yanking me roughly to my feet. "Are you out of your bloody mind?" he shouted. "Do you _want_ to get killed?"

I wasn't able to answer, though. Hespith had returned, standing on a cliff overhead. "That's where they come from. That's why they hate us. That's why they need us. That's why they take us. That's why they feed us," she said, almost singing. "But the true abomination… is not that it occurred, but that it was _allowed_. Branka…. My love…." She looked up, lost briefly in thought. "The stone has punished me, dream-friend. I am dying of something worse than death. _Betrayal."_ Before we could respond she turned and took several steps forward, disappearing from sight.

Oghren raced up to where she had been standing. "Clean drop," he said when he returned. "Can't even see the bottom."

The full realization of what had been done hit me as the fog cleared from my mind. Looking at the body of the beast I screamed in horror before doubling over, clutching my stomach. Vomiting uncontrollably on the floor of the cave, I could hear someone else doing the same not far from me. Even when what little food I'd eaten was gone my stomach continued to clench in protest.

"Alistair," I said weakly once I stopped dry heaving. "I think I've figured out why there haven't been many women in the Grey Wardens." The idea of being dragged off to become… _that_, instead of just killed outright terrified me. No wonder they didn't recruit many women, if that was the risk we faced.

"I… I think you're right," he said.

"We're friends, aren't we?" I asked, sitting back on my heels and looking up at him.

"Yes," he replied, sounding suspicious.

"So you won't let them get me, right?" I'm sure I looked half-crazed. The idea of going through whatever that poor woman had gone through was enough to drive anyone mad. The idea of spending the rest of my life pumping out more darkspawn seemed so much worse than death, I couldn't even begin to put it into words. "If it comes to that… kill me first. Please. I'd rather die than…"

He pulled me to my feet and, seeing that I was shaking, put his arms around me. "It _won't_ come to that," Alistair said.

"But if it does," I repeated. "Just… promise you won't let them take me alive. _Please_."

Alistair sighed. "All right," he said after a moment. "I promise. Whatever happens, I won't let them take you alive if there's _anything_ I can do to prevent it."

"Thank you," I said after a moment. He released me and nodded, looking sick.

"Let's get away from this thing," Alistair said. No one objected.

I walked with Leliana and Morrigan, who were just as shaken as me. "Some time ago," Morrigan began, "we were speaking of templars. You commented that some fates are worse than death. When you said that… I did not believe you. Now… I can understand what you mean."

I nodded. "I won't let them get you," I swore. "Either of you. We'll… we'll make it a rule. Everyone can watch out for each other."

"Yes," Leliana said. "I think that would be for the best." She looked sad. "The most horrifying part is that you… you make _more_ of them after. All the pain, all the torture, and you end up _helping_ them in the end. I can't imagine a worse way to live." Horror flashed across her face. "That woman, Hespith. She said _violated_. Do you think that means the darkspawn…?"

"I think so," I said. None of us could actually bring ourselves to say what we suspected. Just thinking it was bad enough.

"Yes," Morrigan said again. "Some things _are _worse than death." I couldn't argue with that.

That night at camp we extracted the same promise I demanded from Alistair from the others. Oghren looked uncomfortable and Alistair tried to insist it wouldn't come to that. Sten told us it was wise to prepare for the worst.

"What are you thinking?" Alistair whispered to me on watch that night.

I glanced around, making sure everyone was asleep. Oghren was snoring so loud I almost said a prayer for the structural integrity of the tunnel we were camped in. "Branka," I said, satisfied no one was listening. "If she's responsible for what happened to those women…" I sighed. "We'll have to stop her. Election be damned. She can't go on if this is what she's been doing."

"Yes," Alistair agreed. "That thing, that broodmother," he made a face. "I've never seen anything so horrifying. Worse than the archdemon in a way, since you know it was once just a normal person."

"And she let it happen," I said. "To her family. To her _lover_. I can't even imagine how horrible someone would have to be to do that."

"Maybe she didn't," he said. "Maybe they were separated and that woman was just blaming her."

"Maybe," I agreed. "But if not…"

"Let's just hope Oghren understands," Alistair said. I nodded.

We finally found Branka the next day. "That was _not _the girl I married," Oghren said as we walked through a maze. She had collapsed a barricade to keep us from doubling back, so we had no choice but to defeat whatever traps were ahead of us and reach the anvil.

"We have to stop her," I whispered to Alistair as we walked. He nodded glumly, glancing at Oghren. She had all but admitted to sacrificing her family to reach the anvil.

It was two more days before we saw her again. We had fought our way through rooms full of ghosts, more stone giants, and even poison gas. She stood on a ledge, watching us cut down wave after wave of darkspawn. Her voice carried over the sounds of battle. She rambled about how her house had betrayed her by refusing to die at her whim. She was clearly completely mad, even Oghren saw it.

"Can even the anvil bring her back?" he said as we pressed forward. "She sacrificed our _kin_ to breed darkspawn decoys. I think she may be lost."

None of us had an answer for him.

I had noticed the darkspawn were becoming less frequent. I didn't know if this meant we were passing beyond their territory or if there was something keeping them away. We walked from a tunnel into another large cavern, the biggest golem I'd seen so far standing quietly in it. I tensed, waiting for a fight, but this one began to speak instead of attacking.

Introducing himself as Caridan, _the_ Caridan, he began issuing dire warnings about the anvil. "No mere smith, however talented, has the power to create life. To make my golems live, I had to take their lives from somewhere else."

I shuddered, realizing what he was saying. It wasn't just pulling the life from somewhere and infusing it into stone. There was a person, trapped, inside all of those mindless creatures. Trapped and _alive_. All trace of their thoughts, hopes and dreams, gone. It sounded like the rite of tranquility. It sounded _worse_.

He asked for help destroying the anvil. Before I could agree, before I could _run_ to do it, Branka decided to show up. Screaming that the Anvil was hers, she swore not to let us destroy it.

Even Oghren was horrified. "Branka, are you mad?" he shouted. "Can't you see how much you've lost to get this thing?"

She tried to defend herself, talking about the destruction of the dwarven empire. "The Anvil will let us take back our glory!" Branka insisted.

"It enslaves living souls!" I said, hoping she just didn't know. Perhaps she wasn't aware, and would see reason. "It must be destroyed!"

Morrigan tried to talk me into keeping it. Alistair met my eyes over her shoulder, looking horrified. I raised my eyebrow. "And how would you like to be a golem?"

"You wouldn't dare!" she said, stepping back from me.

"Hm. Wouldn't I? Don't you think people will be forced into this? Your freedom is so important, why would you be this quick to take it from others?"

"Fine, destroy it," she said, looking annoyed. "I will not argue."

Branka, apparently not caring _how_ they were made, screamed at the golems to aid her, charging to attack us. I shouldn't have been surprised, really. If she was so ready to kill off everyone in her own family what were the souls of strangers?

I was shocked to see Oghren fly into battle against her golems, helping us even now. I ran towards Branka, moving as quick as I could. Ducking her swings, I counted myself lucky that she was a smith, not a warrior. At the very least I could make sure Oghren wouldn't have to directly fight his wife, even if she was insane.

I was trying to keep her frozen but dwarves were notoriously resistant to magic. My spells wore off too quickly each time. The last of the golems rushed to her side, pushing me back. I cast a final spell, crushing it. Through the cloud of dust created by the shattering of the golem I saw Oghren swing his axe towards Branka. There wasn't even time for me to shout, much less stop him. I wished for him to miss, giving me time to launch at least one more spell. No one should have to kill the person they love, no matter what horrible things they might have done.

Her head rolled across the floor, stopping near my feet.

Not sure what I could say, I looked at Oghren. Drenched in enough blood to turn his skin as red as his hair, he set his axe on the ground and covered his face with both hands. I felt a dull ache in my chest looking at him. I was too slow.

Numbly, I listened to Caridan offer us a boon for our aid. "Oghren?" I said, looking over at him. "You lost Branka to this. Is there anything you want from Caridan?"

He sighed, looking at the immense golem. "I don't suppose you can bring my Branka back? Make her a golem?" I turned my face away so he wouldn't see the tears threatening to spill.

"I would not condemn her to that, even if it was within my power," Caridan replied.

Oghren nodded, saying he expected as much. "I don't want anything to remind me of… this," he finally said. "But there is the election," he reminded us.

Caridan forged me a crown, saying he didn't even want to know the candidate's names. That being done, I took the hammer from him and brought it down on the Anvil as hard as I could. I fully expected it to bounce right back at me, but to my amazement the metal shattered. Caridan thanked me one last time before leaping off the edge of the cavern into a stream of lava.

I asked Oghren if there was something he wanted to do with Branka's body, not being sure about dwarves funeral rites. He bit his lip and nodded. "She… she should return to the stone. Normally it would be at home but… here is fine. Caridan's workshop. I think she would have liked that idea."

Sten and Alistair helped him pry part of the wall open while Leliana and I wrapped the body in a sheet. I made sure to tuck it very tightly so her head wouldn't roll away when she was picked up. Oghren laid his wife's body in the hole and, after looking at her in silence for a moment, replaced the stone.

Taking an impression from a large plaque memorializing everyone who became a golem, at Oghren's suggestion since he said the Shaperite would likely reward us, we set off for the long trip back to Orzammar. I was horrified to see that areas we had cleared only days earlier were already swarming with darkspawn once more. Oghren was quiet for the first few days, nodding glumly as we each offered him condolences.

"Wardens," he called when we were cutting through Orton Thaig. Since we weren't looking for anything and just hurrying back we were taking a more direct route through the city. Alistair and I walked over to the alley he was standing in. "One of yours?" he said, pointing.

There were dozens of darkspawn skeletons piled up. At the back of the alley was a human skeleton, in moldering armor with a winged helmet. A sword was lodged in his ribs, his sword positioned similarly in the skeleton of his hurlock killer. "Yes," Alistair said. "That's a Warden helmet."

"Why would there be a dead Grey Warden alone down here?" Leliana asked. "I thought you protected the surface." Alistair and I exchanged a glance and she sighed, realizing we wouldn't explain.

"I can burn what's left of his body," I offered.

He nodded. "I think that would be good." We gently lifted the remains, which were much older than I thought, and carried them to a more open area. Laying them out I looked over the body and, at the last moment, removed the sword and helmet. "What are you _doing_?" Alistair said, appalled. "You're looting the corpse of a fallen Warden?"

"Do you think any of our brothers would want to see these items destroyed, instead of being put to good use helping us fight a blight?" I asked. "You _need_ a helmet, I wasn't kidding. If you get injured worse than that I won't be able to heal you, it's beyond my skills. I think it's safe to say if he could talk he would _tell _you to take it!"

"I suppose you're right," Alistair said. "Still, wearing a dead man's helmet. It's a bit creepy."

"Better than ending up dead yourself," I said, not backing down. He sighed and brushed the dust off the helmet before putting it on. I turned my attention back to the body after putting his sword on my own back for the time being. "Should we say something?"

Alistair nodded. Clearing his throat he began to recite. "Draw your last breath, my friends, cross the Veil and the Fade and all the stars in the sky. Rest at the Maker's right hand, and be Forgiven."

I nodded and cast a jet of flame towards the body. We stood there until nothing but ash remained.

My watch that night was with Oghren. "So your people, you set the dead _on fire_?" he asked, sounding horrified.

"We do," I agreed. "It's symbolic, since Andraste was burned at the stake. Since she was burned, so are the dead, in preparation to join Her at the Maker's side."

"You believe that?" he said.

I shrugged. "Maybe. Not sure, I don't think about it. I sometimes wonder if it's a load of garbage invented so they can justify locking people like me up."

"_You_ were in prison?" he asked, sounding impressed.

I chuckled. "Not as such. On the surface if you show magical ability they take you away, send you to live at the Circle of Magi. Mages outside the circle are called apostates, if they're caught the Chantry kills them." Stretching my legs out I looked over at my fellow Warden. "That's what Alistair would have done. He was going to be a Templar, a mage hunter, before the Grey Wardens recruited him."

The dwarf shook his head. "So how is it you're out? He your guard?"

I laughed. "Not at all. Grey Wardens don't answer to the Chantry. I'm beyond their reach. It's pure coincidence that we're the only two left. I got out when I was conscripted about… hm. Almost five months back."

"You've been a Grey Warden for _five months_?" Oghren said, shocked.

"No," I clarified. "I was conscripted then. It took about six, seven weeks or so to get from Circle tower to Ostagar, with a couple stops on the way. I've been a Grey Warden since the night before the battle. Almost four months now. Alistair's been one longer, he's got six months on me."

"Ancestor's tits," the dwarf muttered. "The _only_ Grey Wardens left to deal with the blight haven't even been Grey Wardens for a _year_?"

"Yep," I said. "Scary, isn't it?"

"Sodding terrifying," he muttered. "So, if he's senior to you, how come you're in charge?"

"I'm not in charge," I said. "No one is, really."

"Right," Oghren laughed. "Keep telling yourself that, boss." He sighed, fiddling with his beard again. "Look, you kids seem to know your way around a fight. Well, mostly. But you need someone with experience at your side. Someone that's been killing darkspawn since you were both still on the teat." I suspected that was something of an exaggeration. I would have guessed Oghren to be maybe ten years older than me, fifteen at the absolute most. He stroked his beard. "I'm a Warrior who can't carry weapons in my city. I don't even have a house to defend anymore. Way I see it, there's nothing left for me in Orzammar. I could do worse than killing an archdemon. What do you say?"

I glanced over at him. Even in the dim light I could tell he was nervous. I didn't know if it was over going to the surface, or worry that I'd turn him down. No chance of that, though. Not only did we need all the help we could get, but Oghren _was_ experienced. He would be an asset to anyone, it seemed a shame no one in Orzammar realized that. "I'd be honored if you came with us," I said finally.

"_Really_?" he said, sounding shocked. "Er, I mean, that's what I figured you'd say. Ha! This'll be some fun. What do you say to a drink to seal the deal?"

* * *

_Have I mentioned how much I love Oghren? Since I do._ _  
This is probably the darkest thing I've written so far. I normally don't do 'dark' so hopefully it worked out. _  
_Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	20. We should leave the past behind us!

"You're sure about this?" I asked Oghren as we rode the lift up. We had made it back to the city, crowned a king who reacted by slaughtering his opponent, and were finally leaving Orzammar after more than a month underground with promises of troops as soon as we needed them. Even the Legion of the Dead had agreed to fight with us after I made a few comments about how they should show off their skills to the surface.

"Aye," he said. "They can focus on tearing each other apart down there without having me to kick around."

The doors finally opened. Alistair pushed forward, sun glinting off his new armor. It was Silverite, to match the helmet from the deep roads. He had complained throughout the fitting, and then almost nonstop since putting it on. I was ready to kill him. It looked fine, better than fine in fact, he looked fantastic in it. It certainly helped that it wasn't _crusted_ with filth like his splintmail, and it cost a small fortune. Not to mention that it would do a lot more to keep him alive. "Ah," he sighed, stretching and looking up. "I was starting to forget what daylight felt like."

As everyone poured out I heard Oghren groan next to me. "Take your time," I said. "First time I came outside it was pretty overwhelming. And I had windows growing up. Got sick all over the shore of Lake Calenhad."

He made a face. "I feel like I'm about to fall off the world. By the stone, look at all that sky!"

"We're in no rush," I assured him. "Take as long as you need."

He grumbled. "Might as well get going. We're losing, what you call it, daylight?"

It had gotten colder since we went into Orzammar. I was glad I insisted on Oghren getting something warm for under his armor and a cloak for over it, in addition to a tent and other supplies. Alistair plotted our route on the map. I insisted on sticking to major roads, even if it doubled the trip time, since it would mean we could stay indoors. "We won't find inns on those little roads," I said. "We didn't see any on the way here. In this weather… we can't even wash up unless we get rooms somewhere. We'd freeze to death washing in a stream."

"So we stay dirty," Alistair shrugged. He was in a rush to get to Redcliffe.

"Yeah? So any tiny cut you have gets covered in filth, festers, and starts to ooze until you end up delirious with fever? You don't need to be a healer to know that's what will happen."

He sighed. "Fine. You win." We walked on, the weather becoming slightly warmer as the road sloped gradually down through the mountains. I could hear the pet nug we found Leliana squeaking at Dane. He would make threatening noises towards it every few hours, apparently wanting to assert his position as the most important four-legged member of our party.

We were a few weeks out from Orzammar when an elven woman ran over to us, screaming. "Thank the Maker!" she shouted. "Bandits attacked our wagon, please, we need help! Follow me!"

Morrigan and I exchanged a glance and I held my hand up as the stranger ran ahead. "What?" Alistair said. "Why aren't we following? This could be serious."

"Alistair," I whispered. "For just a moment, I want you to be a templar."

"What?" he asked, but he closed his eyes, a look of concentration on his face. A moment later Alistair did a double take, looking at the retreating woman. "She's a mage!" he whispered.

"It's an ambush, I think," I said. "No way around, but at least we won't walk in blind."

Warily, we followed behind her. The ground was bare but frozen under our feet. Even Dane had his ears plastered down, a rumble from deep in his chest pouring out. I could see wagons overturned, with bodies on the ground around them. As soon as we were close there was a crashing noise from above. I managed to jump just in time to avoid having an enormous dead tree dropped onto my head.

"The Grey Warden dies here!" shouted a heavily accented voice as the 'corpses' got up and began to attack.

I grabbed my staff and honed in on the woman who led us to the trap. She was, as I expected, a mage. She was also in the middle of casting a complex lightning spell. Running towards her I realized I wouldn't get a spell out in time to interrupt her, so instead I simply smashed my staff into her face. With a cry she put a hand to her nose, blood seeping between the fingers. "Got you, bitch," I laughed before getting my own lightning spell out, much faster than her. A frost spell and she was done, collapsing to the ground. Ducking behind the overturned wagon I began to pick off the archers, one at a time. I saw a shadow approaching from behind and waited until he was closer. Just as I could see a flash of sunlight glinting off a blade I raised one hand, sending him flying back with a burst of magical energy. Turning, I saw it was the accented man. "You'll have to do better than that," I laughed, quickly freezing him in place before retuning my attention to the archers.

Climbing to my feet, I looked around for another target. "Is that it?" Alistair called down to me.

"I think so!" I replied. "Wonder what that was all about."

"You can always ask him," Morrigan said, standing over the man I had frozen. "This one still lives." Dane was next to him, growling.

"Well that's helpful," I said. "I think he was the leader." I raised my hands over him, slowly casting a warming spell to defrost the man. Now that I got a closer look at him I could see he was an elf, older than me, with long blonde hair and tanned skin, tattoos running from his temple almost to his chin. The man groaned and slowly opened his eyes.

"Mmm…. What?" He looked up and saw me standing over him. "Oh."

Dane began to bark. "Down, boy," I said. He sat near my feet, looking at the man threateningly. "Yep," I replied, raising my eyebrows. "Oh."

"I rather thought I would wake up dead. Or not wake up at all, as the case may be. But… I see you haven't killed me yet."

He rolled onto his side, managing to look far more like someone relaxing after a long day than a prisoner. I also suspected he was trying to see up my robes. "Maybe I wanted to torture you first?" I said, annoyed that he went from trying to kill me to openly leering at me in under half an hour.

"Mmmm… as fun as that might be, perhaps we can wait until a later date, without the audience, yes?" He winked at me, I'm fairly sure I blushed. The way he said it just sounded _filthy_, in a _really_ fantastic way. "In the meantime I might as well save us all some time." He proceeded to introduce himself as Zevran, an Antivan Crow. _Ah, that's the accent_, I thought. After Leliana explained that the Crows were an order of famous, and expensive, assassins Zevran confirmed he was hired by Loghain. He had no loyalty to him, apparently, and didn't even know why he wanted us dead. Strictly a hired hand.

"How much were you paid?" I asked, morbidly curious as to what our lives were worth.

"Me?" he laughed. "Not so much as a single copper. The Crows were given a great deal of money, from what I understand, but I saw none of it. Being an Antivan Crow isn't what one would call profitable."

"So why are you one?"

He laughed at that. "Leaving aside my distinct lack of ambition, it would be because I have no choice. They bought me on the slave market when I was young. I've been trained for this since childhood." I gasped, horrified. I'd heard there was still slavery in Tevinter, but I didn't know it existed outside of there. "Ah, don't let my sad story influence you," he said, waving a hand dismissively, probably reading the expression on my face. "It isn't so bad. They keep you well supplied. Wine, women, men… whatever you might fancy. Although the severance package is _garbage_, let me tell you. If you were considering joining I'd really think twice."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said drily. "Although somehow I suspect my retirement plan is far worse," I replied. Even Alistair chuckled behind me.

"You seem like a bright girl, I'm sure you have other options." I was tempted to laugh, just trying to imagine the long list of _options_ available to a mage. I had… being a Grey Warden and, oh, being a Grey Warden. Wide open field there. I didn't really consider death or imprisonment an option.

"So… why are you telling me all this?" I finally asked him.

"Why not tell you?" he said, grinning as he actually sat up. "I didn't kill you, so I'm already a dead man. That's the penalty for failure in the Crows. If you don't kill me now they will later." He sounded remarkable blasé about the entire thing. "Really, though, I do like living. I like it a good deal more than the alternative. So… since you are clearly the sort to give the Crows pause why not let me serve _you_ instead?"

"You must think I'm royally stupid," I said, amazed he'd even suggest such a thing. Even leaving aside the way the word "serve" made me want to wince, especially given what little he told us of his background.

"I think you're royally tough to kill," he replied. "And utterly gorgeous. Not that I think you'd respond to simple flattery, but… there are far worse things in life than serving the whims of a deadly sex goddess."

Deadly sex goddess. I rather liked the sound of that. I should have it monogrammed onto my pack. My tent, too. Alistair groaned behind me, I could see him cover his face with his hand. I suppose he caught a glimpse of my involuntary grin. I forced myself to look serious again, realizing responding to simple flattery was _exactly _what I was doing. "What's to stop you from just killing us later?"

He shrugged. "I was never given a choice about joining the Crows. I think I've more than paid them back for what they spent on me. But… the only way out is to sign on with someone tougher than they are." Zevran paused, a thoughtful look on his face as he put a finger to his lips. "You know," he said, sounding like someone thinking out loud, "even if I did try again later, I suspect they would kill me on principle for failing the first time. I'd rather take my chances with you."

"Why would I even want your help?" I said, refusing to talk about him as though he was a slave. Although, technically, I suppose he was. He certainly wouldn't be _my_ slave, though. The very idea made me sick.

"Because I'm skilled at many things, from fighting to stealth to picking locks. I could also warn you, should the Crows attempt something else." He grinned at me. "I can also stand around and look pretty, if you prefer. Warm your bed?" I'm fairly sure I blushed again. Maker's breath, what was _wrong_ with me? I'm not a blusher! He chuckled as Alistair started coughing behind me.

I gave Alistair a dirty look. Honestly, how bad did he think I was? Sure, the elf was gorgeous, but he just tried to _kill me_. That didn't really make me want to get naked near him.

Although if I had to think about it, I was far more deadly naked than he would ever be… I could summon flames with my bare hands, after all. Not many places to hid a sword on a naked body, though.

No. No no no. Bad Maggie! Bad!

"Let me think," I muttered, glancing around. Alistair was looking at me like I'd lost my mind for even considering this. Leliana was nodding at me, obviously in favor of the idea. Not surprising, she would hate the idea of killing anyone who gave up. Everyone else seemed to have varying levels of indifference.

I put my hands over my eyes. The first option seemed to be letting him go, which would either be sending him off to a sure death or allowing him to try again, depending on how honest he was. He didn't _seem _to be lying, but I wasn't able to tell my best friend of almost two decades was a blood mage, so I couldn't really go by my own gut instinct. The second was bringing him with us where, hopefully, we could keep an eye on him so we weren't all slaughtered in our sleep, while getting an extra blade on our side in fights. And, on top of all that, he was a _slave_. Andraste's bloody sword, a slave, in this day and age? How is such a thing even possible! How could I send someone back to that?

Killing him, at this point, was not an option. I wasn't about to become the sort of person who killed an unarmed man.

"Fine," I said finally. "You can come with us."

Alistair began to grumble. I turned to look at him. "I'm not a bloody _executioner_. I won't kill someone who is unarmed and defeated. Absolutely not!" He wouldn't meet my gaze. "Alistair, if _you_ can kill a man in cold blood after his surrender go right ahead."

He sighed. "No… you're right. I suppose we _can_ use whatever help we can get."

Leliana welcomed him and he turned his attention, which had been focused on my legs for the better part of the last hour, to her. "I was not aware such loveliness existed among adventurers," he said, smiling.

She made a face at him. "Or maybe not," Leliana snapped.

I sighed. So much for "utterly gorgeous" and "deadly sex goddess." Wait. He tried to _kill me_. Why did I care? It hadn't been _that_ long, had it?

Hm… I hadn't so much as kissed someone since Ostagar, so I suppose it had. Ouch.

With a sigh I helped him to his feet. "Thank you, my dear lady," he said, holding onto my hand far longer than necessary. "You won't regret this." Saluting, he added, "I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you, until such time as you choose to release me from it. I am your man, without reservation. This I swear."

I nodded, welcoming him, and we walked on, looking for a campsite for the evening. "Don't," Alistair said as we walked, keeping his voice low enough no one else could hear.

"Pardon?"

"You _know_ what. Don't you dare. He tried to _kill us_. I'm not fighting the archdemon by myself since you got distracted by long hair and had your throat slit in your sleep."

"Do you think I'm that stupid?" I asked, offended.

He sighed. "The two of you were both looking at each other like Dane eyes the dinner scraps. It was horrifying."

"I was not," I said.

"Liar," he replied. "You _blushed_. I didn't even think you were physically _capable_ of blushing!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said primly. "And I'm _not_ an idiot."

"Fine, fine," he said. "Well, you're in charge of keeping an eye on him. You wanted to bring the assassin, so you have to take watch with him." That made sense. The easiest thing for him to do would be to kill his watch partner and then kill us all in our tents. I wouldn't need to fumble around looking for a weapon to fight back if it came to that.

I giggled, deciding to have some fun with Alistair. "Hmmm… so, I get to take watch with the sexy assassin? Up late, all alone? You are _such_ a considerate friend."

"Oh Maker," he muttered putting a hand over his eyes.

I laughed. "I'm _kidding_. That's fine. I'll make sure he doesn't slaughter you in your sleep." I sighed. "Alistair, you heard what he said. He was a _slave_. I couldn't send him back to that. If these Crows buy and sell _people_ he might end up very grateful not to be part of them anymore."

"I know," he sighed.

"And really, if I let him go he could follow a day behind us and try again. Now we can keep an eye on him."

He looked over at me, a grin forming. "_That_ is actually very clever," he said. "I never even thought of it that way."

"Well someone has to be the brains behind this band of mercenaries," I laughed.

"Hey!" he shouted, feigning insult and punching me in the shoulder. I replied by hitting him with a small bolt of lightning. We both cracked up.

* * *

"So you are to be my personal guard?" Zevran said, mouth turned up in a smirk as we sat by the fire later that night.

"That's the plan," I replied. "Personally, I'll take you at your word unless you give me reason not to. The others are… not so trusting, though."

"You keep strange company," he observed.

"Alistair and I are the only Wardens. He was going to be a templar but got conscripted instead." I shrugged. "We just seem to meet more people who want to join us everywhere we go."

He chuckled. "And the only other surviving Warden is a mage? The Maker has quite the sense of humor."

"That he does." I looked over and shook my head. "Can I tell you, sending a _mage_ to spring a trap on a group that includes two mages and a templar? Bad plan." He looked at me blankly. "We can _sense magic_." I laughed. "Morrigan and I knew what she was before her mouth was open. I think she picked up on us, too. She tried to stand really far from us."

Zevran shook his head. "That would explain the expression on her face when she returned." He stretched his legs, warming them by the fire and shivering slightly. "I was not told you were a mage, to be honest. Only that two Grey Wardens had entered Orzammar, and I was to surprise them on their way back to the lowlands. The Crows would have been rather upset when I told them you were a mage, well, if..." If he had killed me. Ah.

"Why?" I asked. It didn't seem like anyone would balk at the idea of killing mages. The dominant religion in Thedas practically made sport of it, after all.

"Mages cost more," he said in a matter of fact tone. I had to chuckle at that. He nodded slightly, acknowledging the bizarre pride I took from his statment. "Is this country always so _cold_?"

I passed him the blanket I brought out in case I got cold. He didn't have so much as a cloak. Zevran wrapped it around himself and gave me a grateful nod. "This is winter," I pointed out. "And yes." he was silent, but kept giving me strange looks from the corner of his eye.

"What is it?" I said finally.

"I've never actually met a Grey Warden. Is there truth to the rumor that the members of your order can sense darkspawn?"

"Yes," I replied. That wasn't a secret after all.

"And you would know if it was truly a blight?"

"We would," I confirmed. "It is."

"It is?"

"Yes," I said. "I'm absolutely positive. No doubt at all. We even got a glimpse of the archdemon in the deep roads, so any of the others could tell you by now, not just Alistair and I. Although both of us knew well before that, of course."

"I am suddenly rather glad I failed in my mission," he mused, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself. "There are lands in Antiva still corrupted from the fourth blight. The earth is black, as though it was scorched, and nothing will grow there. Horrifying." I nodded. I'd read as much, although I'd never seen it for myself. Most people believed it would remain that way forever. "Back home there is a belief that only a Grey Warden can end a blight."

"They say that everywhere," I replied.

"Is it true?"

"That they say it everywhere? Of course. Any more than that… I can't tell you. Sorry."

He snorted. "Ah, secret filled orders. That I can understand." Zevran turned to me. "What did it look like?"

"The archdemon?" I asked. He nodded. "Bloody huge dragon, but… wrong. Corrupted. We were pretty far away so I didn't get a great look at it, though." I chuckled grimly. "I suppose I will eventually. You know, assuming I live that long."

"You seem to be doing quite well for yourselves," he said, sounding amused.

"Says the man who tried to kill me!"

"Unsuccessfully!" he laughed. "We should leave the past behind us!"

I laughed with him, despite myself. "The past? It was eight hours ago!"

"One in your position can't take these things personally. You _are_ accused of treason and regicide, yes?"

My laughter died in my throat and I groaned, putting my face in my hands. "Don't remind me. You have no idea how upsetting that is. Treason? The very idea…" I bit my lip. "I've probably read _every single_ _book_ about the rebellion that's been published. Loghain Mac Tir was my _hero_ when I was younger! Maker's breath, he was right up until he quit the field leaving everyone to be slaughtered and blamed us for the deaths caused by his retreat. My dog's named _Dane,_ for Andraste's sake. I would _never_ commit treason, I'm as loyal to Ferelden as anyone! Just the idea… it makes me _sick_."

"You don't seem quite as upset about the regicide part," he pointed out.

"King Cailan was a bloody idiot. He brought his end on himself. He wasn't even a shadow of the man his father was. Duncan and Loghain both begged him to stay off the front lines at the final strategy meeting. The moment I met him I knew he'd be the death of us all. Honor this and glory that. He wanted a battle like in the old tales. He said that _out loud_, to other adults. Can you even imagine?"

"Who would have thought generations of inbreeding combined with a soft life of luxury and comfort could cause such problems!" Zevran exclaimed with mock seriousness.

I had to agree with him there. "You know? I may be the mage spawn of farmers, but at least I can _dress myself_ without needing a pile of attendants!"

"Here, here," he replied. "I may be the son of a whore but I can feed myself without a professional cook!"

"Well, that I can't quite manage," I admitted. "I'm getting better, though. No one makes faces drinking coffee I made now."

"I've had this nation's idea of cuisine. If you cannot duplicate it that may be to your benefit. You are far better off learning to cook from the bard or myself."

"The bard?"

"Orlesian, red hair? Her name escapes me..."

I laughed. "Leliana? She was a _Chantry sister_! She's not a _bard_!"

"And before that?"

"A minstrel," I told him.

Zevran actually almost choked trying not to laugh at that. He looked at me, shaking his head, once he regained his composure. "For a woman who kills darkspawn for a living you're charmingly innocent. You _do_ know most Orlesian minstrels are really bards, yes?"

"Um… no," I admitted. "You think so? Really?"

He shrugged. "I may be wrong." The tone of voice implied _but probably not_.

"I'll have to ask her. That would be exciting." It would also explain why she was so cagey whenever her past was brought up.

Our watch ended a couple hours later. "What's so funny?" Alistair asked when he came out of his tent for his shift. Zevran and I had been telling stories to kill time

"We were comparing embarrassing stories," I said. Zevran had just told a particularly funny one about rolling out of moving carriage into the street in front of a crowded sidewalk café. The driver, not realizing both his passengers were gone, continued on his way. With their clothes. "Ooh, here's a good one," I said. "About… hm… two years ago me and another apprentice found an empty meeting room. What luck, right? Well… it turns out there was a meeting scheduled in there about fifteen minutes after we closed the door. Half the senior enchanters walked in to see me bent over the table with my robes hanging off!"

The two of us both doubled over, laughing hysterically, while Alistair shook his head.

"Come now, Alistair," Zevran said. "Surely you have some tale to share!"

"I am not having this discussion with you," he said, sitting by the fire.

"Alistair _hates_ my stories," I said.

"They're all filthy!" he exclaimed.

"That's what makes them fun!" I replied.

"Filthy stories _are_ the best kind," Zevran agreed.

"Well, I'm glad she finally has someone to share them with," Alistair replied, rolling his eyes.

Shaking my head I wished them goodnight and crawled into my tent.

We finally came across an inn a few days later. Good thing, since all of us were starting to smell like… well, like people who lived out of tents and hadn't bathed in weeks. "I will _not_ share a room with Maggie," Morrigan said as we stood outside trying to figure out who would room where.

"No… I… I don't think I want to, either," Leliana said. "I'm sorry."

"Do I smell or something?" I said. "Actually, I probably do so don't answer that. But a hot bath is the _first thing_ on my list, I promise."

"I'll gladly share a room with you," Zevran said, voice loaded with false sincerity. I rolled my eyes.

"You _scream_ in your sleep," Morrigan provided. "I understand _why _and do not fault you for it, but that does not make it any easier to sleep through."

"Is _that_ what that was?" Zevran said. "I had wondered. It seemed rude to begin asking around."

"Sorry," I said, embarrassed. "I get nightmares."

Once it was decided I would have my own room, with Morrigan and Leliana sharing another, the men began to argue. Even Sten said made a comment about how he wasn't foolish enough to share his room with an assassin.

"Fine," I finally snapped, sick of hearing the bickering. "We'll get four rooms. Two for girls, two for guys. You four can sort out just how you want to split them up." Annoyed, I paid and left three keys on the counter, grabbing one for myself and heading straight upstairs without another word.

I had barely climbed out of the bath before someone was knocking on my door. Grumbling, I wrapped a towel around myself and threw it open, snapping "What now?"

"Why hello," a very surprised Zevran said, taking in my outfit. "I was merely checking to see if we would be eating downstairs. Alistair had wondered, but he said something about not wanting to go near you in 'this mood.'" Hm… Alistair had seen my temper before, he would probably recognize it. Zevran looked me up and down. "From where I'm standing, though… it is truly his loss."

I rolled my eyes, wishing I'd just yelled through the door. "Here," I said, walking to the dresser where I'd set the purse containing our money. Extracting a few coins I passed them to Zevran. "Order food for everyone. I'll be downstairs as soon as I'm dressed."

"Pity," he laughed.

Somehow Alistair and I both ended up quite drunk. Well, not somehow. It was because I kept buying us pitchers of ale. I glanced over at Zevran, who was currently getting the brush off from Morrigan. "What a shame," I muttered. "And it's been ages, too. You know I haven't been with anyone since Ostagar! Months! I don't think I've ever gone so long. I'm going mad." Alistair made a face, started to say something, and clicked his jaw closed quickly. "You want to ask me something," I slurred. "I can tell." A waitress brought us another pitcher of ale. Alistair rubbed the back of his neck, face red, and something occurred to me. Something I probably should have figured out _much_ sooner. "Um… have you ever…?"

He turned, if anything, even redder. "Have I ever… had a good pair of shoes?"

"Yes, Alistair," I said, rolling my eyes. "Shoes. Exactly."

"Well I don't know what you mean," he said. "Have I ever seen a basilisk? Ate jellied ham? Licked a lamppost in winter?" The last one caused him to burst into drunken giggles.

"Is that the one with the frost spell?" I said, mostly teasing him. "After I tried that Daveth said I ruined him for all other women."

Alistair choked on his ale. "I didn't—"

"Such an interesting conversation," Zevran said, walking over. "And to think, I've been listening to Leliana talk about shoes." He made a face.

"Got you," I said, poking Alistair in the shoulder. "I don't think that's a real thing. Although Daveth _did_ say I ruined him for all other women. I get that a lot." I laughed, watching him blush a deeper shade of red. I couldn't help but smirk seeing how that got Zevran's attention, too. "But… I would… um, avoid that particular metaphor. Unless your tastes fall fairly close to home. Which is just fine by me, but if they don't it's probably not something you'd want to confuse people about." He looked at me blankly. I sighed. "All right. Lamppost. Let's think about what body part that would correspond to." He turned even redder and Zevran snorted with laughter next to me. "Riiiight," I said. "Now, usually the, um, licking of said lamppost would be done by someone who doesn't also... um... have a lamppost of their own. Unless you're, you know, interested in people who do. Which, like I said, is just fine. But if you're not you probably don't want people making that mistake." He was still giving me that blank confused look. "I'm trying to be really not-dirty here. I can explain it clearly in about one sentence but you'd blush so much your head might explode."

"I can draw a picture," Zevran offered. "Or perhaps act it out?" He looked over at me. "Would you care to assist me with a demonstration? In the name of education, of course."

"Thank you, Zevran," I said, rolling my eyes. "I don't think that will be necessary."

Alistair seemed lost in thought. "What do you— oh! Oh, no… no no no. Wow. No. That's something people do?" Yep. He hadn't. "Wow," he muttered, eyes wide. "And… as you probably guessed by now, I, um, have not."

"I was starting to suspect," I said. "The whole Chantry thing."

He nodded. "It's not that I'm not… curious. Just, I was raised to be a gentleman and to respect women. And that, you know, some things are best saved for people in love. That isn't such a bad thing, is it?"

I shrugged. "I can see what you mean, although I don't see how spending the night with someone is disrespectful to me. It's not like I'm being manipulated into something I don't want to do." He didn't seem to have an answer. "But, in the tower sex is just something done for fun, mostly."

"For fun?" he said, shocked.

"Sure, why not? I mean, it is fun, and there is a definite lack of that in our lives. And it's not like mages will settle down, get married, and have families, so why not enjoy ourselves?"

"Don't look to me for an argument," Zevran said when Alistair apparently glanced his way for backup. "I was raised in a brothel. My only rule is that sex is best when done well."

"Here here!" I drunkenly cheered, tapping my glass against his before returning my attention to Alistair. "But what did you want to ask me. There was something, I can tell!"

He shrugged. "Just… doesn't it ever bother you? Not caring about the people you're with?"

I made a face at him. "Just because I'm not in _love_ with them or some such doesn't mean I don't _care_."

"You knew Daveth for _one evening_," he said.

"It was a _very_ exciting evening," I pointed out.

He shook his head in disbelief. "I think you're from another planet. You're completely shameless."

"Shameless?" I laughed. "What have I done to be ashamed of?"

He looked confused. "I… well… huh. I don't know."

"There you go," I said.

Zevran was chuckling next to me. I looked over and he smirked. "And here I thought everyone in Ferelden was a finicky prude."

"Sometimes I wonder the same thing," I admitted. Alistair got up, glaring at me over Zevran's shoulder and mouthing the word 'killer' before retreating to talk to Leliana. I suppose I did need the reminder.

* * *

_Still not quite 100% on getting Zevran's "voice" down. Hopefully it'll come to me soon, and this isn't too far off in the meantime. A bit too much direct-from-game dialogue here for my tastes in the meantime. (Plus, well, the 'lamppost' line is just SO Alistair, I couldn't NOT include it.  
I wanted a fun chapter after the last one. Hopefully this is a nice change of pace from the broodmother. ;)  
Thanks so much to everyone who reads and reviews!_


	21. I think we're probably all a bit off

"Did you _like_ being an assassin?" I asked Zevran on watch a few nights later.

"Did?" he replied. "Have I suddenly changed professions?" Zevran arched an eyebrow and chuckled. "There were things I disliked about being a Crow… but an assassin? I like that just fine. I am simply… between jobs, as they say."

"You never worried about killing an innocent?"

"Do you know anyone who can honestly claim to be innocent?" he countered. Zevran raised an eyebrow. I started to say something and he laughed, cutting me off. "Now now, I've heard more than enough whispers about some sort of trouble at the Circle for _you_ to make that claim."

"Actually," I said, making a face, "I was going to say _Alistair_ is completely innocent, to an almost disturbing degree for an adult when it comes down to it. I'm not under any illusions about myself, believe me."

Zevran looked thoughtful for a moment. "Perhaps he is," he agreed. "But, if you mean, say, bystanders: children, relatives, that sort of thing, obviously I would do my best to prevent their deaths. It does happen, of course, and that is unfortunate but unavoidable." He wrapped his cloak tighter, muttering a word I didn't understand under his breath. I suspected it was a complaint about the weather he hadn't bothered to translate. "As for killing itself, why not? There is an artistry in the deed, pleasure that comes from knowing another life is in your hands. Having seen you in battle, well… I suspect we are not so different there. Most people don't laugh as they fight, you realize."

"So I've learned," I said. "I'll admit, violence is a great deal of fun. Far more than I expected it to be." I sipped my tea before going on. "You're quite different from me in that regard, though. I see you, Leliana, even Morrigan… it's so… precise. I smash darkspawn and bandits into small bloody chunks that go flying through the air, while your victims all look barely injured when they fall. After a fight Oghren and I are the only ones shaking bits of genlock from our hair or whatever."

"Comparing yourself to a drunken dwarven berserker… that is highly disturbing."

"You're telling me. But there it is."

When he laughed at that I noticed the skin around his eyes crinkled slightly. Seeing it, I couldn't stop myself from smiling back at him. His eyes, which I had thought were brown, actually looked to be flecked with a warm amber color. "I suppose we should all count our blessings you don't _smell_ like him as well." I giggled in response, playfully elbowing him, well aware that I had slipped into flirting. Not that he didn't flirt any less… with me and everyone else. "But… as I was saying. I had many reasons to dislike being a _Crow_. Having no choice would, of course, be first among them. Being treated as disposable, the absurd number of rules… oh, I _hated_ all the rules. Just being an assassin, though? I enjoyed that well enough. Should I come away from this adventure in one piece I would most likely continue to be one. Honestly, can you picture me doing anything else?"

"Why not," I said. "You're a free man; you can do whatever you want."

"Ah, but I'm content to simply do what I happen to be good at. Although really, these thoughts are moot. Odds are you, I, and everyone else in this merry band will end up eaten by the darkspawn or slain by the Crows. Painfully, I would imagine. Still, it is nice enough to imagine we actually _have _futures."

"Cheery," I said. He laughed and shrugged, holding his hands over the fire. "I take it Antiva isn't as cold?"

"Oh no," Zevran said. I had, apparently, hit on a good subject. I barely had to ask more than one or two questions to keep him talking. I was still listening to his warm accent talking about the flowers that grew in the main square of Antiva City, my arms curled around my knees as I imagined the colors, more than an hour later when our watch ended.

We encountered a particularly difficult group of darkspawn when we entered the foothills of the Frostbacks on the way into the lowlands later that week. On a narrow pass between two hills they sprung up from the earth around and above us. They had not one but _two_ emissaries with them. I tried to focus on the spellcasters, keeping them frozen so the others could cause damage and not worry about being attacked from afar.

I had just managed to bring the last of them down with a bolt of lightning when something fell against my side, sending me stumbling. I turned to see Zevran pulling his dagger from the back of a genlock, it was close enough to me when he killed it that the monster actually hit me when it crumpled. "You must pay more attention to your surroundings!" he snapped at me, gesturing down at the darkspawn. Dane, hearing Zevran's voice raised while he was in such close proximity to me, padded over, squeezing between the two of us, standing protectively near my legs. "And _you_," he added, turning on my dog. "Where were you? You should be watching her. That is your job, is it not?" Dane whined, putting his head on the ground and covering it with his paws in embarrassment.

"It's all right, boy," I said, scratching his ears. "It was my fault. Zevran's right, I need to pay more attention." He nodded with satisfaction at my admission of fault before wandering off to help Oghren and Alistair gather up the bodies.

It wasn't until hours later that I realized how easy it would have been for him to ignore the genlock only moments from skewering me, leaving the darkspawn to fulfill half his contract and none of our group the wiser.

* * *

"All right," I said, looking over my cards. "I have an, um… a blue star-thing, a red stone, and a hammer."

"The blue star is lyrium. Put down the hammer. Hammer covers anvil," Oghren said, gesturing to the pile. I did and he took a drink. "Not quite sure how fair it is you're winning when I'm telling you what to do, though," he snorted.

"Yeah, but if you won I'd be getting drunk instead." Well, I hadn't won _every_ round, and was pretty close to drunk as it was.

He chuckled. "Now that's the way to look at it!"

"So how you liking the surface?" I asked him.

"I gotta say," Oghren mused, looking over his cards. "The ale is _sodding fantastic_. Really. I'll have to give you tall folks credit for that, it puts lichen ale to shame."

"It is good, isn't it?" I said. "I thought the ale in Orzammar would taste like a stout, or a porter. Those are dark beers up here. But…um, no."

"No," he laughed. "Tastes like dirt. Mostly because of the dirt in it."

"It's pretty strong, though."

"That it is," he agreed. "I've got a few things that'll still put it to shame." I raised my eyebrows. He chuckled and stumbled to his tent, returning holding a clear bottle filled with a glowing yellow liquid.

"_What_ is that?" I said.

"Golden Scythe," he said. "The 4:90 is better, but rare. This is a 7:25." He poured very tiny measures into each of our glasses. "Give that a taste! It'll put hair on your chest."

I laughed. "Do I look like someone who needs hair on their chest?"

"Just drink, girl." I picked up the glass, surprised to find it freezing to the touch even though it had been in my hand only moments earlier. Raising it to him I tossed the glowing brew back.

Choking, I pounded my fist on the tree stump serving as our makeshift card table. "Sword of mercy, what _is_ that?" I managed to get out after a moment.

"Good stuff, isn't it?" he said. Or, well, both of him said. Wow, that was strong. I nodded and Oghren laughed. "So, question for you."

"Yeah?"

"Remember, couple weeks back, we were out walking. And that gal came over all 'oh no, help help, bandits!'" He pitched his voice higher, in imitation of a woman, while waving his hands dramatically. "And we get there and an elf shouted 'Ze Grey Warden diees here!'" I rolled my eyes at his imitation of Zevran's accent.

"Yes, I remember," I said. "Why?"

"No real reason," Oghren mused, sipping another drink. "Just figured you must have forgotten with the way you've been ogling the elf."

"What?" I choked. "I was not!"

"Riiight," he said, laughing. "You're doing it _right now_. You just spilled ale down your robes when the swishy nughumper bent over to get something from his pack." He made a face. "That's a waste of good ale!"

Oh… I suppose I was. Oops. "Sorry," I said.

"Hey, ain't my neck he wants to cut."

"Want_ed_, not wants," I said. "Remember?"

Oghren laughed, his beard swinging from side to side. "Sure, Maggie. Keep telling yourself that. Listen, have your fun, I'm not about to stop you. Just kick him out before you fall asleep if you want to keep breathing."

Now that was _very_ reasonable advice. I pondered that for a moment before realizing Zevran was staring at me from the other side of camp. Before I could stop myself I blushed. "Damn," I muttered, turning back to the card game. "Too drunk." Oghren, now passed out, didn't have a response. I tucked a blanket over him before casting a spell to sober myself, at least slightly.

"You're staring at me," I said to Zevran as I cut across our campsite.

"I am," he agreed. "A beautiful woman like yourself? I'm sure you're quite used to attracting your share of admiring glances," he said, causing me to blush _again_. How did he _do_ that? I wasn't some sort of… blusher! I'm sure it was Oghren's strange alcohol.

"Beautiful?" I said, smiling and red-faced like a perfect imbecile.

"I only say that because it is true," he replied. "Does that make you uncomfortable? Although it would pain me greatly, I will desist if you prefer."

"No…" I said, giggling at his mock sincerity. "It's fine."

"That is _very _good to know," he said, leering. "I admit, I suspected as much, since I happened to notice you were staring at me as well." Even my _arms_ were red. Did I have a fever? Maybe it wasn't him, maybe I was sick. Yes, I liked that idea. Much better than this whole uncontrollable blushing thing. Really, though, I should have guessed he would notice if _Oghren_ had. "I am nothing if not a gentleman. It seemed only polite to confirm."

"A gentleman?" I laughed, finally pulling myself out of the giggling blushing… thing I had fallen into so I could converse like a normal person. "Well, that's quite a shame." Hm… that was not what I expected to come out of my mouth. I had planned to make a crack about his attempts to look up my robes, or his leers. _Encouragement_ wasn't on my list.

But, it was done and seemed rather pleased by my comment. "Interesting," Zevran said, smiling. I had to admit, he had a fantastic smile. Brennan had once joked that I could smile the robes off him… I suppose now I knew how he felt.

* * *

Alistair and I were on cooking duty the next night. It had been decided early on that he would never be allowed to cook on his own. Not that I could claim to be much better, but he did have a tendency to stop watching the food until we smelled it burning when left to his own devices.

"Let me ask you," he said while we chopped vegetables. "What do you think of our… traveling companions?"

"Ooh, gossip time!" I laughed.

"Absolutely," he nodded. "And as soon as you tell me I'm going to go around and let everyone know all the mean things you said so I can take over as leader."

"Why does everyone keep calling me that?" I said. "I'm not."

"Oh please," Alistair laughed. "That's half the reason you were recruited. You're the rare lunatic who hopefully won't go insane after ordering people to do horrid things for years."

"What?"

"You didn't know?" he said. "Well, if you hadn't survived the Joining it would have been Daveth. If you both lived, who knows. Probably him, since mages tend to bring extra complications. No offense. Wasn't my problem, though. Duncan quizzed you with all sorts of hypothetical questions?"

"Burn the village, that sort of thing? Yeah."

"Yeah," Alistair said. "He did that to everyone. And 'burn the village' didn't even make my long list of answers. Or most people's. You two were the only ones. The only ones in _years_, apparently." He raised an eyebrow. "Congratulations, you're insane and completely cold-blooded. The words 'morally bankrupt' also come to mind. How's it feel?"

"I'm not insane," I said. "I'm… pragmatic." He laughed at that. "And it feels like you just sloshed boiling water onto my boots!" I cast a frost spell before my skin would burn and gave him a dirty look.

"Oops," he said. "Sorry. Anyways, that's why you got to go listen to the boring strategy meeting while everyone else had a few pints and took bets on which mage would snap and attack the grand cleric first. You were in the lead, by the way. Uldred was next. He's creepy."

"Charming," I said, chuckling. "I'm laughing _at_ you, by the way. Not with you."

"Ouch," Alistair said, clutching his chest. "You wound me. I'm wounded. My manly feelings are hurt."

"Yeah, yeah," I said, making a chattering gesture with my hand.

"I guess Duncan didn't have a chance to tell you…" Alistair made a face and I squeezed his arm. He took a breath and went on. "He knew he didn't have many more years and needed someone to… well." He sighed again. "I figured that was why he had the king send you with me to light the beacon. Who knows how long it would take to find someone else who was just the right kind of crazy. Better to make sure you didn't die in less than a week."

"You could have told me that at the time," I said. "I figured it was because he thought I was incompetent."

"I could have, but I didn't like you then. It was fun watching you suffer." He laughed and elbowed me. "_Anyways,_" Alistair said. "I've formed my opinions on everyone. I wonder how close yours are." He glanced around, settling on an unconscious figure at the edge of camp. "Oghren first. He's passed out again, by the way."

"He lost our card game, it's not entirely his fault."

Alistair chuckled. "What was that, by the way? You've been playing it almost every night this week."

"Diamondback," I said. "He taught me last week. Its fun, you should play with us."

"I thought that was a game played by dwarven prostitutes?" Alistair looked shocked.

"If_ Oghren _is a dwarven prostitute I think we would have gotten twice what I had hoped for by sticking you in a brothel!"

"Ew," he said. "No. Anyways, what do you think?"

"I think he's awesome," I said. "He has tons of booze on him, and knows a bunch of really filthy songs. I feel guilty, though." Alistair raised his eyebrows. "I wanted to make sure _I _killed Branka. I was close, too. Damn golem pushed me back and he got in there before I could finish her." I shook my head. "If he wanted to hate me forever for it that's fine. Everyone hates mages anyways. I didn't want him to have to kill his own wife, though, no matter how nuts she was. I mean, if I did that I'd drink, too."

"Ouch," Alistair said. "I didn't even think of that."

I nodded. "I like Oghren. I'm glad he doesn't hold anything against us, but I do wish he didn't have to live with knowing he killed her. Plus, I think I saw him cut three hurlocks in half at the waist with one swing of his axe the other day. Impressive!"

"The smell I could do without," Alistair said. "But yeah, I like him, too. It amazes me he can fight with as much as he drinks, but he does, and quite well at that. I'd prefer more off color stories and less projectile vomiting, though I suppose we take what we can get. What you said…. It makes sense. I'll see him just staring into space sometimes, looking sad. I'm sure that's part of it." I nodded. "So… what about _Zevran_? You don't _really_ believe his vow, do you?" He paused. "No, actually, you probably do, and will give me all sorts of reasons why. So… let's hear them."

"I do," I said, making a face at him. "He's had more than one chance to try again and hasn't. He's very good in a fight, too. It's nice having more than one person who can spot traps and so on." I shrugged. "You know the other day, back when we fought that group with two emissaries? He's the only reason I didn't end up run straight through. I was so focused on the spellcasters I didn't even notice a genlock right behind me until Zev killed it and yelled at me for not paying more attention. You should give him a chance."

"That's a lot of trust to give to someone who tried to _kill us_," Alistair said. "Don't forget that. Tried to kill us. And did you just call him _Zev_? Seriously? You have a nickname for him? Already?"

I laughed. "He told me I should," I said. "That's what his friends at home call him."

Alistair made a face. "Right. Of course. Since you're such good friends, what with the having _just met_ two weeks ago… when he was _trying to kill you_."

"I know," I said. "You're not even the first to remind me _today. _But it wasn't personal, you know that. And he could have very easily let me die the other day, if he still had any interest in killing us." I shrugged. "I don't know, I like him. He's fun."

"Yes, we've all noticed what you think," Alistair said, rolling his eyes. "I mean, really, you don't even know how to _pretend_ to be subtle. _Tried to kill us_. Just saying…"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That means you almost walked into a tree earlier today because you were so caught up staring at Zevran's legs you didn't see where you were going."

"I was no— Well, all right, I probably was. But he has really nice legs."

"Not my type," Alistair laughed. "His are far too… male. And attached to someone who tried to kill us. I really shouldn't have to keep reminding you of that. Maybe I should write it down so you can carry it everywhere in your hand and keep looking at it."

"Yeah, yeah," I groaned. "I know. I keep reminding myself. Finding it harder and harder to care, though."

"Really?" Alistair looked at me dubiously. "Even apart from the _tried to kill us_ thing… You don't think he's a bit… much? The hair? The clothes? He's so... _flashy._"

"Alistair," I said, gesturing to my fur-topped, gold trimmed, multicolored robes. "Mage. We _invented_ 'a bit much.' A bit much happens to be just my type."

"Your funeral," he said. "Probably literally. Since he tried to kill us." He dropped his voice. "Look, if you're really _that_ suicidal… go for a Thursday. That's my day of the week in the betting pool. That's all I'll ask since you're going to leave me to fight the archdemon alone."

"You're taking bets?" I said, shocked. "Bets on if I'll sleep with someone?"

"Well, Oghren organized it," he said. "And _when_, not _if_. Even _I'm_ not that naive."

"I hate you," I muttered. "How much?"

"What?"

"How much is the pool up to?"

"Three sovereigns."

"You'll have to split it with me," I said, grinning.

"Deal," he laughed. "Wait, no… don't. Maggie, he tried to _kill us_."

"In the past!" I said. "We all have a past."

"This was _two weeks ago_."

"Ah, but what a rich and full two weeks it's been!" I laughed.

He groaned. "Oh well. It has been nice knowing you. _Moving on_. Leliana… do you think she's crazy?"

"Maybe," I shrugged. "I think we're probably all a bit off, to be honest."

"Probably," he laughed. "But… her vision. Do you believe it?"

"Not as such," I said. "But… there are recorded cases of prophetic dreams. It could have been that."

"There's a thought," he said. "Most of the visions recorded by the Chantry have been dismissed as madness, but the chantry also says prophesy is the work of malificar, so…" He shrugged. "She was right there, just when we needed help. That seems like a pretty big coincidence."

I nodded. "She believes in it, though," I said. "No doubt in my mind there." I leaned towards him and lowered my voice further. "You know, Zev thinks she might be a bard."

"_Really_?" Alistair said, eyes wide. "Hm… well, that would make sense. You going to ask her?"

I nodded. "Waiting for the right moment. But definitely."

"Huh. Let me know, that would really be something." He made a face then. "You don't think she was sent to spy on _us_, do you? Wardens, I mean?"

I shrugged. "If she was, well… what's the worst they find out? We want to end the blight? We kill darkspawn? Really, it's not like we've got any political clout or secrets here. The worst thing is someone in Orlais finds out we have to steal to survive. Big deal."

"True," he said. "You already thought about that, didn't you?"

"The second she opened her mouth and an Orlesian accent came out," I laughed.

He chuckled. "So… what about Sten? He's so… quiet. It's kind of creepy."

"I think he's homesick," I said. "I wish he was more talkative, but when he does say something it's usually worth listening to. I've learned a lot from him already, he knows tons of tactics and stuff."

"True," Alistair agreed. "The Chantry talks about his people as though they were completely monstrous but… his philosophy, or what little I know of it, seems pretty reasonable."

"Other than the mage thing, yeah," I agreed. "It's strange, and really different, but I can see wisdom in evaluating everyone and giving them jobs that fit their skills. Better than through inheritance or whatever."

"He killed all those people, though," Alistair said, musing aloud. "He seems to regret it… but not in the way you or I would. I get the feeling that… I don't know… killing them was dishonorable, and he regrets the stain on his honor. Not like he regrets the actual deaths."

"Yes," I agreed. "Just that exactly. It does bother me a little, but for him, that _is _regret, I suppose."

"But he _does_ seem to be honorable, even wise," Alistair added. I nodded, agreeing. Sten was too impatient for me sometimes, he wanted us to find the archdemon nownownow, and didn't seem to understand that we _needed_ allies to fight it. But he did have some brilliant advice once in a while. "What's in that bag he's always eating from? That just appeared when we left Orzammar."

"Cookies," I said. "Chocolate chip. I got them for him at the first inn we stayed at. He said cookies were his favorite thing about Ferelden. I thought it might cheer him up. I guess he can't go home. Not sure why yet, I'll figure it out eventually."

"I want cookies!"

"Well, you should have said something. He did!"

Alistair snorted. "So… one left. _Morrigan_. Please tell me you don't _really_ trust her."

"I do," I said. "We're friends."

"Oh, that thrills me just _beyond_ words. Really. I love the thought of the two of you sitting by the woods plotting your little magey plots." He made a face. "What if her mother sent her with us for some other reason?"

"You don't get the feeling Morrigan came because she wanted to? I don't think she'd actually listen to anyone, even her mother, if it wasn't something she was willing to do anyways."

"Perhaps," he admitted. "I just don't trust her."

"Why?" I said. "You don't _like_ her. I understand why you don't, she's mean to you and I have asked her to knock it off. But she's never given you a reason to distrust her. There's a difference."

He rolled his eyes. "Well, I do appreciate that, at least."

"You just…" I shrugged. "You should know how upsetting the templar thing is. That's almost all of it, I'm sure. I mean, she and her mother have been hunted, repeatedly, since she was a child. She's had templars _literally _trying to kill her every few months for _years. _That'll leave a mark on someone."

"I'm _not_ a templar. I've _told_ you this. I'm a Grey Warden, same as you."

"_I_ know that," I said. And _because_ you're a Grey Warden I gave you a chance even though I was ready to scream and run away the second you told me what you did before. And you know… after a few weeks, when the dreams kicked in and I started sensing the darkspawn, I realized how pointless whatever either of us did before was. This is too important." Alistair nodded. "Look, we're friends, yes?"

"Of course," he said, stirring the stew.

"Well, if I wasn't a Grey Warden… if I was just someone who offered to help… would you have given me a chance, or would you be eyeing me as another questionable mage in camp?"

Alistair sighed. "Maybe I would," he admitted. "But it doesn't change that Morrigan is a _total_ bitch."

"Fine, fine," I said, not wanting to get in the middle of their fight. "So… today's _Wednesday, _right?"

"Why did I even tell you…?" he said, more to himself than me.

"Oh, come on. We could die at any moment. Why not live a little before some genlock takes of my head?"

He shook his head. "Yes, it's Wednesday. I believe Leliana has Wednesdays. Oghren has Mondays and Tuesdays, he put in extra. Morrigan has Saturdays and Sten only said 'Parshaara' so we gave him Sundays. Zevran took Fridays."

I started choking. "_What_? He's betting on this, too?"

"Are you kidding? Who do you think gave Oghren the idea?"

"All right," I sighed. "Leaving aside how incredibly bizarre that _every single person_ in camp is gambling on my sex life, including the person I may sleep with… how did _any _of you expect to win when one of the parties involved picked a day? Even if I throw myself at him he could always put me off until his day of the week rolls around."

"Oh… _blast_!" Alistair said. "Why didn't any of us think of that?"

"Because you're idiots?" I asked.

"Oh yes," he replied, punching me in the shoulder. "That's exactly it. We're not _smart_ like the girl with an assassin fetish."

"Touché," I admitted, laughing.

I glanced at Zevran across the fire as we ate dinner that evening. I couldn't believe he was so confident he bet on the specific day of the week he would get me in bed. Noticing my attention he gave me a cocky grin. Yep, he was that confident.

Well, two could play at that. After all, it would technically be Thursday by the time my watch ended.

I held his gaze, making a show of sucking an imaginary drop of stew off my finger. Noticing him shifting in his seat, staring at me, I suppressed a grin.

Really, did he think _magic_ was the only thing I learned after years of living in the tower?

* * *

_A/N: I find it interesting that Zevran's default tactics have him set to attack anything that is attacking your Warden first. It's like you get an automatic guardian the moment he joins your group.  
Some game dialogue, which is bioware. Most... not.  
Thanks for reading and reviewing! (and, since almost half the reviews for the last chapter were variants on 'Yay, Zevran, the smut returns!" you can just guess what the next chapter will bring.)_


	22. We're both far too cute for this

Now that we had officially returned to the lowlands the weather was slightly warmer. Not _warm_, but warmer. Since it seemed to be above freezing I figured I should wash my filthy robes while I had a chance. Yanking on my emergency backup set I never wore and wrapping my cloak around me, I ran off to the stream.

An idea occurred to me while I stood at the edge of the water. Casting a force field underwater, and then targeting a fire spell into it, I grinned, seeing a small isolated section of very hot water steam. After glancing around I confirmed I was alone, peeled off my clothes, and jumped in. It was better than fantastic.

Clean for the first time in more than a week, I returned to camp with my cloak pulled tightly around myself, and hung my circle and Tevinter robes to dry.

"Your hair is wet!" Leliana said. "You didn't bathe in _this_ weather, did you?"

I grinned. "I had a brilliant idea, and it worked. Come see! Grab your soap and towel!" She shrugged, but did as I said. The water I had managed to shield off for myself was long gone, the spell dissipated, so I cast another force field, and heated the water. "Ta-da!"

Leliana actually shrieked, throwing her arms around me. "Oh, I cannot _wait_ to wash this filth off myself. You are such a sweetheart!"

Leaving her to her bath, I returned to camp, telling Morrigan of my idea and running my hands through my hair until the spell had dried it. Of course, once Leliana returned Zevran demanded I cast the same spells for him. "This entire nation is made out of mud, it seems," he complained. "My hair is _filthy_." Well, I wouldn't object to that. Especially not with what I had in mind for later. I was even happier when he dragged Alistair, whining all the while, with him. I remembered there were a few years when I was a young apprentice where several of the children would avoid bathing like it caused plague. You could always see a handful of children under the age of ten running through the tower covered in dirt, some older mage admonishing them to wash up. Alistair, it seems, never quite grew out of that stage.

An idea forming, I ran over to Morrigan's private camp. "What comes?" she said, smiling at the expression on my face. "You are plotting something."

"I am," I said, grinning. "So, tell me… how do you stay warm?"

"Pardon?"

"In your robes," I said. "How do you not freeze. You're not even wearing a cloak."

She chuckled. "'Tis a simple shield spell. I can teach you now. It would not work on very cold days, but a day like today it is adequate."

"That," I said, "would be _excellent_."

Morrigan caught a glimpse of the Chasind robes under my cloak and shook her head. "For your sake I hope it is at least pleasurable enough to be worth the risk."

"Here's to hoping," I agreed with a grin.

"He may try to… dissuade you until Friday," she said.

"I know about all that," I said. "And if he thinks he can bet on what _day_ he'll get me in bed… oh, he is sorely mistaken. I didn't get my reputation because I just stood around waiting for boys to come to me."

"So… your revenge is to sleep with him _sooner_?" she said, raising an eyebrow.

"Hey, never said I wanted to punish _myself_," I laughed. "It's been almost five bloody months. I'm ready to go mad."

"'Tis your funeral," she said, giggling. I resisted the urge to tell her Alistair had said the same thing, almost verbatim.

Zevran was shivering on watch that night. "As nice as it is to be clean, this wet hair will be my death," he muttered, wrapping his cloak around himself even tighter.

"Here," I said, handing him my cloak which he automatically pulled around his shoulders. "Sit still." I stood in front of him, casting my hair-drying warmth spell. Bending forward I reached up, running both of my hands through his long blonde hair. I realized once I had started that my chest was, well, basically directly in Zevran's face. And that my robes left very little to the imagination.

Well, good.

Once his hair was dry I stood up and smiled. "Better?"

"Much," he said, braiding his hair with a smirk. "I must compliment you on those robes. They are very… dramatic."

"Aren't they," I laughed, sitting far closer to him than necessary. "I don't wear them often, my others are all drying right now, though. For some reason no one seems to look me in the eye when I have these on."

"I have no idea why," he said, chuckling. "You aren't cold, though?"

"Maybe a little," I replied, lying. "But you're freezing, I can tell. Here, we can share." I slid over so we were pressed against each other and pulled one side of my cloak around my shoulders as well. "Much better," I said, resting my hand on his leg. I smiled, realizing he had wrapped one arm around my waist, resting on my hip.

Unfortunately that seemed to be about as far as I could get. I giggled, batted my lashes, pressed myself against him, tossed around so much innuendo even _Alistair _would have gotten the point, and nothing. He was like a statue. Zevran was, of course, completely aware of what I was doing. He had to be., A blind man would have been. Deaf _and_ blind, perhaps. Maybe even deaf, blind and _dead. _He was probably resisting my advances simply for his own amusement.

"So…" I said, speaking close to his ear, "tell me about one of your adventures!" Men love talking about themselves, right? That wasn't just a mage thing, was it?

"My adventures?" Zevran replied. "Just how old do you think I am? Should I begin speaking of the good old days? Shaking my fist at children?" Hm. Maybe it was a mage thing.

"That's not what I mean," I said, poking him in the side. "And you know it. Come on, you've been _places_. You've seen things. Until earlier this year I never even left the Circle of Magi." I sighed, pouting. "But… if you don't want to tell me… I guess that's fine."

"Now I didn't say that," he laughed, his arm gripping me tighter. "Old men love telling stories, after all. Will I get a kiss afterward?" _Oh_ _finally_, I thought to myself.

"Maybe," I giggled. "If it's a good story."

"_Maybe?_" he said, feigning anger. "Oh, now the anticipation is going to kill me. Thank you very much for that!"

"Hmmm, we can't have that," I said, pressing my mouth to his before he could react. He blinked several times, clearly surprised, when I pulled back. "Should I… um, not have done that?" I said, suddenly wondering if perhaps he wasn't as interested as I thought.

"No, by all means," he said. "You only caught me by surprise."

"You're kidding, right?" I said, eyebrows raised. "I don't think I could be more obvious if I climbed onto your lap."

He chuckled, both hands now on my waist as we faced each other slightly. "Oh, don't get me wrong," Zevran said. "Your desires were _quite_ clear. I think that I am simply used to Antivan women. They are… not so aggressive." He smiled after saying that, though. "It seems I have found one way Ferelden outshines my homeland." With that he ran a hand through my hair and pulled me towards him.

It turned out, at least as far as his kissing abilities went, Zevran had not overstated his skills in the least. Not that I was any slouch in that department, either.

Which, of course, meant neither of us were paying the least bit of attention to our surroundings. Not until I heard someone chuckle at the edge of camp, at least. The two of us both snapped to attention, jumping to our feet.

Wouldn't it figure, the _one_ time we actually _need_ a night watch was the one time I had given up all pretense of actually watching? "Bandits," he hissed next to me.

One of them made a crack about interrupting us as they began to advance. That was enough to make me see red. I'm _finally_ kissing someone, for the first time in _months_, and they pick that moment to show up? Enraged, I lobbed a fireball across the campsite at them. They certainly hadn't been expecting a mage. While they were incapacitated with the fire I directed lightning towards them, leaping from one to the next. None would be getting up again.

"Feeling annoyed, are we?" Zevran asked, looking over at me with a satisfied grin on his face. Since half our campsite, fortunately not the half where anyone was actually camped, was now a smoking burnt wreck I suppose I deserved that.

"Wow, that's… a bit more than I planned," I admitted, raising my hand and calling down snow to put out the fire.

Alistair stumbled out of his tent. "What was that booming noise?"

"Bandits," I said. "Well, bandits were here first. The booming noise was me… um, ending the bandits."

He looked over, seeing the ice-covered burnt mess. "Bit excessive, isn't that?" Zevran laughed next to me. I realized I was probably fairly flushed, both of our hair was a mess, and I was wearing the skimpy Chasind robes. Alistair must have noticed these things at the same time since he just shook his head. "Well, I'm up now. Might as well start my watch," he said, rolling his eyes at me. "You two… no, you know what, I'm not even going to say anything." He sat down facing away from us and, as if to punctuate his statement, began humming loudly.

"Quite subtle," Zevran mused, looking over.

"Indeed," I said. "So… care to join me in my tent to pick up where we left off."

"Oh?" he said, leering. "Is there something in your tent that needs assassinating? That is my specialty, or so I'm told."

I actually managed a giggle at that. _"Last _thing you want to remind me of now," I said. "Besides, I'm sure there are all sorts of things you're good at," I insisted, trailing a fingertip along the edge of his ear.

"There are," he agreed. "If we're both thinking of the same thing..."

"Hm… well, everything I'm thinking of doesn't seem to involve _clothing_. Is that close to your thoughts?"

"I don't know how you did it, but I believe you have actually read my mind!" He smirked and I all but bolted into my tent, despite trying my best not to look _too_ eager. "Goodnight, Alistair!" Zevran called cheerfully before joining me. Alistair only grumbled in response. "He seems grumpy," Zevran said when we were in private. Or as private as a _tent_ could be.

"No idea why," I said innocently. "I mean, it's after midnight. Doesn't that make him the winner of your little bet?"

Zevran looked at me, shocked. "You _knew_?"

"Yep."

"You knew?"

"This isn't a big group, you realize. Word gets around."

"And the low cut robes, the pressing against me, the giggles, the eyelashes..."

"You really think I'm going to let someone _win money_ by getting me in bed?" I laughed. "Come on now. I grew up in a tower, not _under a rock!_"

"You are a very frustrating woman," he said. "All night you torment me. And those robes? All because you _knew?_"

I laughed. "Aw. Poor Zevran. Well I'm glad you noticed at least! I was worried I'd lost my touch. I mean, it's been a while, but not _that_ long."

"How long?" he asked.

"Ugh," I said, falling back to my bedroll. "Almost _five months_. I could go mad, I swear. Five months!"

Zevran stretched out next to me, propped up on his elbow. "More than four," he said. "Since I came to this frozen country."

"See, this is just a shame. We're both _far_ too cute for this."

"I am in complete agreement," he said. "So... I say we rectify the situation."

It didn't take long for me to realize I was way, _way, _out of my league here.

Maker knows I wasn't a fumbling virgin, but I was used to the rushed encounters of the tower. I could probably count the number of times I'd actually been _naked _when I was with someone on one hand. Not anything where we had time to do... whatever it was he was doing with his hands.

And really, how was he managing to make me moan by running a hand down my side? Well, nails, but even so.

He was mostly on top of me as we kissed and I shifted underneath him, hoping he would get the hint. "Patience, patience!" he said in a low voice, chuckling. "Don't worry, there's no Templar to interrupt us here." I looked up at him, catching the faint glint of light off his eyes as he grinned at me.

"Old habits," I said apologetically.

"It is understandable," he replied before flicking his tongue against a hard nipple. Moaning softly, I dropped any further attempt at conversation. I was nearly panting as he began to suck and then, after a moment, flicked his eyes up to mine before biting. There was barely enough time for me to turn my head so I could stifle my cry into the pillow. I had one hand wound through his hair. As he switched sides I used my other hand to cover my mouth. I had to bite down on the side of my hand as Zevran slipped his fingers between my legs. I had been trying to touch him, but he kept maddeningly out of my reach. I couldn't do much more than run my hands along his arms or across his shoulders. "Is that good?" he whispered as I moved my hips against him.

"Yes," I managed to gasp out. Practically shaking, I managed to pull him closer to me for a kiss. "Oh Maker," I stuttered, my head flopping back to the pillow of my bedroll as he began to rub faster. I whimpered when he stopped suddenly.

"You are _drenched,_" Zevran said close to my ear, sounding amused as he displayed his hand. I opened my mouth, planning to reply 'no kidding' when he began to lick his fingers. I blinked in surprise. That was... different. And, I had to admit, surprisingly hot. Smirking, he began to kiss his way down my body, occasionally biting my torso. I raised my head, not sure what Zevran was doing, when I felt his fingertips begin to spread me open. I shifted slightly, feeling more than a little bit exposed and somewhat uncomfortable with the idea of being examined so closely when he... oh sweet Maker, what was he doing? I sucked in a rough breath, realizing that was his _tongue_ I felt and began moaning. No wonder that dirty book I found in Denerim spent so much time talking about... whatever he was doing was called. One hand still tangled in his hair, and now with my legs hooked over his shoulders, I began shamelessly grinding myself against his mouth. Zevran responded by slipping two fingers inside me, moving them at the same pace as my hips.

I cried out his name and was sure I heard him chuckle faintly, the vibrations transferring through me and causing me to moan even louder. Biting down on my arm I tried to muffle the amount of noise pouring from me. After a moment I realized I hadn't actually stopped to _breathe_ in probably too long and pulled in as much air as I could. Zevran must have taken that for a signal of some kind as he immediately plunged a third finger into me and began _sucking_ instead of just licking.

I shrieked, feeling light explode behind my eyes as my entire body tensed enough to almost throw me into a sitting position. Falling back a moment later, gasping for air, I heard Zevran mutter something in Antivan. I looked up and groaned, covering my face in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to do that. I'm _really really _sorry."

He picked chunks of ice from his hair, looking at me in confusion. "So... that was _not_ intentional?"

"No," I admitted. "Sometimes it just... happens. Not frequently, though. I've only had it happen a couple times." Looking away I covered my face again. "I feel like such an ass."

He shifted over, sitting next to me and taking my hands from my face. "Stop," Zevran said quietly, holding my hands. "Don't hide. Was... was that because you were nervous? You don't fear me, I hope?"

"No, no," I insisted. "Not at all. It, um," I shrugged, giggling a bit. "Well, let's just say in the tower it would be considered a great compliment."

"Really?" he said, starting to smirk slightly. "I've been with mages before but they never..."

"Well, it doesn't happen often," I said. "But yeah, definitely a compliment."

"Well then," he said, pushing me back and climbing on top of me in one smooth motion. "I shall accept it in the spirit it was given."

Kissing, he ran his hands across my breasts. I was back in much surer territory here and enjoyed hearing him gasping into my mouth when I wrapped my hand around his shaft and began stroking. Zevran mumbled a word I didn't understand and bent his neck, burying his face against my throat, cold wet hair sticking to my skin. He shuddered as I ran my tongue along his ear, biting the peak very gently. "Good?" I whispered. On impulse I let a spark of magic leap from my fingertip to his ear. It was something I'd done before with mages, of course, but I wasn't sure how he would react.

With a deep rumbling from his throat Zevran groaned before he pushed my legs apart with his knees, biting into my neck. It was, apparently, good. "Yes," I gasped out. "Please."

His accent far more pronounced, Zevran looked down at me and all but growled out "I can't wait any longer."

Hooking my legs around his waist I grinned, reaching up to push his damp hair back and kissing him. I threw my head back with joy feeling him slam into me. Grinning and gasping for air, I muttered his name again as he slid in and out of me. I'd expected Zevran to know what he was doing, but this was even better than what I imagined. "Yes," I groaned, pushing my hips up against his.

We moved together, both groaning and sweaty with our lips occasionally slamming together violently, until Zevran pulled out suddenly. "No," I gasped. "Why? Don't stop."

"Let's trade places," he said, rolling to his back. Straddling him, I groaned as he filled me again. "Sit up," Zevran said, a hitch in his voice. "I want to look at you." As I did he grabbed one of my hands, guiding it between my legs. I couldn't resist smirking when I realized what he wanted. Touching myself, I let my head fall back, biting my lip. I shuddered slightly hearing him gasp out my name. Fingers digging into my hips, he attempted to dictate the pace. I fought him, bucking faster and faster. Eventually he stopped trying to slow me down and shifted his hands to my thighs, raking fingernails across my skin.

"Yes," I hissed from between clenched teeth. Smirking at me, he began scraping his nails along my legs, my stomach, even my breasts. I tried to stifle my moans, motion becoming erratic. When he gripped my hips with both hands and began pushing up against me, maintaining the fast pace I had set, I shrieked, collapsing forward onto him. Zevran grabbed me by the hair, pulling my head up and kissing me roughly.

"Having fun?" he asked, looking amused. I grinned back at him, nodding. Actual coherent words were still a bit beyond me. "Good," he said. "Get on your hands and knees." I think, if anything, my grin spread wider as I did just that. Feeling him press against me I gasped, pulling away. He, apparently, didn't have the same idea I did. "No?"

"No," I repeated.

He lowered his angle, pushing my knees further apart, and slid into me. "Better?"

"Oh yes," I gasped. That was the end of coherent thought for me. Clutching my pillow, I muffled my shrieks as Zevran pounded into me.

He grabbed my hair, yanking my head up. "Let me hear you," he demanded, smacking my backside. I shuddered again, groaning his name. Attempting to find a happy medium between something he would hear and something not loud enough for the _whole camp_ to hear was, well, difficult to say the least. Particularly since I was unable to do much more than shriek with each of his thrusts as my legs threatened to buckle. Unsurprisingly they did exactly that before long and I collapsed to the bedroll. My sudden movement must have been enough for Zevran since he landed on my back, shouting a word I didn't know.

"Andraste's sword," I gasped once I regained the power of speech. "That was fantastic."

"I was just about to say something remarkably similar," he said, out of breath.

We were quiet for a moment and I heard people outside the tent. "Oh no," I gasped as Zevran handed me a towel so I could clean up. "Is it dawn already?"

He peeked out the tentflap and returned, quickly pulling his armor on. "Even later yet," he said. "We're the only ones not packed."

"Damn," I muttered. I'd have to go the whole day without sleep.

"Indeed," Zevran, now fully dressed, agreed. He grabbed my hand, kissing it with a flourish before ducking out of my tent. He returned a moment later. "I suspect you will need at least one of these," he said, handing me my robes that had been left out to dry. I thanked him and he was gone.

I changed and packed in record time, actually managing to get my tent down without mangling the whole thing. "So you're not dead," Oghren said, seeing me putting my pack on.

"Of course I'm not," I replied.

"Don't get too comfy," he said. "Turn your back and... bam!"

I shook my head, checking to make sure everyone was ready to leave, eating while I walked around camp. I didn't really need to let Oghren know I had turned my back on Zevran, quite happily, for no small amount of time.

Sten nodded at me, Leliana giggled and Alistair made a face. "You could be less... loud," he said.

"I could also be _more _loud," I pointed out. Alistair only grumbled, rolling his eyes. "Oh, come on. Don't be such a grump. It's a beautiful day."

"You're _cheerful?" _he said. "You're going to be all... _cheerful_ now?"

"Is that so bad?" I said. "And come on, give me a little while to be happy before we get back to the usual death and dismemberment."

"Fine," Alistair said. "But I expect the dismemberment to begin again very soon. No more than half a week."

"Tuesday it is!" I said. "We can make it a contest!"

"What would the winner get?"

I shrugged. "The prestige of saying they won dismemberment Tuesday?"

"I don't like that name," he said.

I shrugged. "So think of a better one." We set out not long after, following the road that would eventually bring us to Redcliffe. I made a face, realizing not long after that we would need to visit the tower. "I didn't tell anyone else about what happened at the Tower," I said to him as we walked. "Just you and Morrigan." He looked over at me, surprised. "Look, I make no apologies for what I did. But I know... most people wouldn't see it my way. It's probably best if that doesn't become public knowledge. Our reputation is bad enough with the whole treason regicide thing. I don't want to add blood magic to the mix, too."

He sighed, giving me a look of pity. "Um, Maggie-"

"Yes, I know they'll say blood magic anyways since I'm a mage outside the Circle and that's everyone's first thought. I'm not that naive. But I don't want to add to it ourselves."

"Fair enough," he said. "My lips are sealed."

"Aw, what a good friend you are!" I giggled. "Helping me cover up my major crimes against the Chantry."

"Fine," he said. "Just... go be cheerful somewhere else. I keep remembering why you're in such a good mood and it's really disturbing." Alistair made another face at me. "Shouldn't you go bother Zevran? Isn't that what people do?"

"Not me," I said. "Is it? I don't know how normal people do things. Only mages. And I've learned just enough to figure out we're not normal people."

"You're asking _me_?" he said, shaking his head.

"Fair enough," I said. "And you know, I think Leliana thinks you're cute. Just saying..."

"Go away."

Laughing, I fell back so I was keeping pace with Zevran. Dane followed a few paces behind, cautiously eying him, no doubt confused because he could tell almost everyone distrusted him and yet, to a mabari, he smelled to some extent like me.

Zevran smirked at me. "I probably should have warned you then... this? Inevitable. It was destined to happen."

"Was it now?" I said, pretending to be shocked.

"Absolutely. They used to issue warnings about me at the Antivan border, in fact." He sighed dramatically. "Ah, the good old days."

"Hm," I said, grinning. "You know, there were warnings issued about _me_ in the tower."

He chuckled. "Were there?"

"Absolutely," I said. I looked at him and smirked. "Wait, were _you_ kidding? Since _I_ wasn't."

He laughed at that. "Why you minx, I had no idea your reputation was so sordid."

"Liar."

"I had some suspicions." He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "So... as the saying goes. What now?"

"Huh?" I said. "What do you mean?"

"I only want to make sure we both have the same idea," he said. I looked over at him. I thought we were both pretty clear on what our intentions were from the beginning. Oh no, he wasn't one of those guys who start swooning as soon as you have sex with them once, was he? He didn't _seem_ the type, but you can never tell. "I shall ask nothing more of you than you are willing to give," Zevran went on. "I was raised to find pleasure where you can and enjoy it while it lasts, since happiness is rare."

_Thank you, Blessed Andraste_, I thought, smiling to myself. It was probably all sorts of wrong to thank the bride of the Maker for something like this, but who else did I have to thank? "I thought we were in pretty clear agreement on that from the beginning," I said. "Right?"

"We were," he said. "But sometimes people say one thing before... And when all is said and done they have a different idea in mind..." Ahhhh... I resisted the urge to laugh. He was worried I would fall for him after one night together. Well, it had happened to me, so I suppose I couldn't call him too cocky for that.

"Nope," I said quickly. "It was great fun. And if we decide to have more fun later, well, I wouldn't object. But I don't want or need anything more."

"Excellent," he said, grinning broadly. "How far we've come since those early days when I tried to kill you, and you decided not to kill me."

"Time flies, doesn't it," I agreed.

* * *

_Finally an update. I swear, it took me forever to write the Maggie/Zevran smutty bits since it kept sounding too much like a Maggie/Anders scene. Hopefully it works.  
__The comment Re: Antivan women is just based on what the sister in law says in the human noble origin. It gives the distinct impression that the ladies of Ferelden are far more 'liberated' than their counterparts elsewhere. (Well, good for them!).  
Zevran's comment on his dry spell is just my speculation on how long he had been in Ferelden, since he will specifically say the Warden is the only person he's slept with since arriving in the country. Figuring since he was "in the neighborhood" when the contract came in that he would have at least arrived not long after Ostagar._

_Thanks to all my reviewers! I hope unicorns make all your dreams come true!_


	23. Ritual Dismemberment Tuesdays!

It ended up taking us well over another month to reach Redcliffe at the southern end of the lake, thanks to the snows finally reaching the lowlands. I eyed our finances warily. An unexpected blizzard had forced us to take rooms in an in for more than a week, it left the communal purse lighter than I'd seen it since before we entered Orzammar.

Although we didn't quite repeat our impressive all night performance again, Zevran did follow me into my tent every evening after our watch as our group slowly moved south along the shore of Lake Calenhad. He would always return to his own tent after. He didn't express an interest in staying, although I didn't invite him, either. It seemed more fitting given the nature of our... relationship, such as it was.

"I have a question for you," I said to Leliana one night as we made dinner. We hoped to finally reach the village the next day.

"Of course," she said cheerfully.

"I heard that in Orlais minstrels are usually really bards," I said, watching for a reaction. "Is that true?"

"Oh? And where did you hear that?" She looked amused.

"Someone told me," I said.

"Hm... and you never thought they could be lying?"

Without realizing it I looked across the camp to where Zevran was sitting, sharpening his daggers. Glancing up at me he winked. Since I had, apparently, decided to become a silly teenage apprentice around him I blushed and giggled in response. Tearing my gaze away I looked back at the food. "No... I don't think he would lie."

She looked in the direction I had been staring. "Ahhh... _that_ someone. I should have suspected as much. You two have become all but inseparable."

"What?" I said quickly. "We have not. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't," she said, grinning. "I think it's quite romantic. The assassin defeated and then spared by the lovely Grey Warden he was hired to kill, and against all reason they find themselves drawn to each other. I could write a ballad about it!" She looked up briefly. "Oooh, perhaps I will when this is all done and we are heroes!"

I shook my head. "Yeah... it's, um, not like that."

"No?" she said. "I saw how red you turned when he was teasing me earlier about how long I lived in the Chantry. He wasn't even serious, but you looked angry enough to set his hair on fire! Which is somewhat disturbing since you _can_ set his hair on fire!" She paused, putting a finger to her lips in thought. "Hmmm, I _do_ hope he remembers that." All right, well, maybe I had been a _little_ jealous when he offered his 'services' to her. Although I really had no right to be so I wasn't about to _say_ anything to him. "You're doing it again," she said, reaching over and removing a now-ruined potato from my hand. "We're peeling them, not freezing them solid! And he was far from serious, you must know that."

"Oh," I said, blushing. "Um. That was because..."

"Right," she giggled.

"It's not like that," I insisted again. "Really."

"I'm sure it isn't," she said. "He hasn't taken his eyes from you since we made camp, but it must simply be an unusual fascination with blood-spattered mage robes."

"He hasn't?" I said, looking over at Zevran again. He smiled at me, apparently unconcerned about being caught staring. I smiled back. Leliana giggled.

"You're distracting me," I said to her, again tearing my gaze from him and forcing myself to pay attention to what I was doing before I accidentally took a finger off with the knife I was holding. "You never answered my question! And now you're trying to distract me!"

"Didn't I?" I rolled my eyes and she sighed. "Oh, all right. Bards _are_ minstrels, but more than that. They are also... spies and," she winced, "occasionally assassins." Leliana focused on the food we were preparing while she spoke. "Most bards work alone, or in small groups, under the employment of a wealthy patron. Some believe there is an order of bards, a guild not unlike the Crows, but I do not think this is true. Nobility in Orlais is so competitive. They all wish to get ahead, rise higher in the Empresses' favor, but manners forbid them to act openly against one another. So they all use bards."

"And you were a bard?"

"There was a time," she said, "but... it is a past I've left behind me. Gladly. _Happily_. I abandoned everything and came to Ferelden for a new life, where I could put the nobles and the politics and the petty games behind me. I found myself caught in a storm near Lothering. Taking shelter in the Chantry I realized, once the sky cleared, I did not wish to leave."

"It sounds exciting," I mused.

"And your life isn't?" she giggled. "Or mine now, for that matter. Saving the world from evil, with enemies around every bend of the road? I can't think of anything much more exciting than that!" Leliana looked sad for a moment. "And, excitement found in the course of doing something _good_ is far preferable to the excitement I had become accustomed to as a bard."

I nodded. "I suppose you're right. That does explain how a Chantry sister learned to fight."

"Oh no," she giggled. "We ministered to the poor and sick, comforted the grieving and, in our off hours, threw daggers at each other willy-nilly. Such is life in the Chantry. You would be quite surprised."

I laughed at the image of the sisters and brothers staging knife fights in the Chantry yard, thinking I would probably make a point of stopping at more of them for services if that actually happened.

"Hey Alistair!" I said over dinner.

"Hey Maggie!" he replied.

"You know what tomorrow is?"

"Um. Should I? Is it your birthday? Ooh, is it my birthday?"

"I don't know when your birthday is. I don't even know when my own is. Tomorrow is _Tuesday_."

"Hey!" he said, grinning. "So it is!"

"What is so special about Tuesday?" Zevran asked, turning to look at me. I had noticed he had taken to sitting next to me at ever meal. But, I was the only person in the group who didn't still occasionally stare at him as though they were expecting a knife in the back, so I suppose it was understandable. And if he happened to take a seat before me I'd always take one next to him so he would be comfortable. Of course.

"_Dismemberment_ Tuesday!" I specified.

"I don't like that name," Alistair said. "Let's call it _Ritual_ dismemberment Tuesday. Sounds... I don't know, classier."

"All right," I said, not seeing how ritual dismemberment made any sense in the context of battle, but so be it. Unless the dismemberments were _our_ ritual for Tuesdays, not a ritual in and of themselves. "So, best dismemberment tomorrow wins! You know, assuming we get attacked." I trailed off halfway through the second sentence, laughing too hard to go on. "Well," I said, once I regained my composure. "I suppose it's _when_ we get attacked. I mean, when _aren't_ we being attacked?"

"Right now," Leliana said.

"Shhh!" I said. "You'll jinx us."

"What do we win?" Zevran asked.

"The honor of saying you won dismemberment Tuesday!"

"Ritual dismemberment Tuesday," Alistair corrected me.

"Right. What he said."

Zevran made a dismissive noise. "Is that all?"

I giggled, leaning towards him. "Well, if you won I'm sure I could think of a better prize."

"Oh? I wonder what that could be," he said, grinning at me. Morrigan interrupted us with a theatrical gagging noise. I rolled my eyes at her, she rolled hers back at me.

"So why is it we are going to _Redcliffe_ of all places?" Zevran asked me on our watch that night. We had been comparing stories of our childhood, but the subject wasn't a particularly happy one for either of us. As much as he tried to pretend otherwise I could tell even in the dark his composure slipped a few times when he mentioned the Crow training. Without thinking, I had wrapped my arm around him the first time I saw that brief flicker of pain in his eyes. He normally wore a very carefully maintained mask, for it to slip for even a fraction of a second hinted at a far greater level of distress below the surface. It didn't seem unwanted, at least, since Zevran mirrored the gesture, pulling me closer so I was leaning against him.

The change of subject was quite welcome. "Isn't it a dismal little fishing town?" He was absentmindedly playing with my hair, arm slung across my shoulders.

"No idea," I said. "Never been there. But Alistair was a ward of the Arl when he was young. When he heard the Arl was sick he wanted to visit, we decided going between Orzammar and the Circle would work." I leaned closer to him and dropped my voice. "From what I know this Arl basically dumped poor Alistair off on the Chantry when he was just a boy since his new wife didn't like him. I don't see why Alistair would care about someone who could throw away a child so easily, but..." I shrugged. "You see how he is. I don't think it even occurred to him to blame the Arl, although I certainly do. If he recovers I'm going to give him a real earful."

"I must admit," Zevran said, "I've never particularly cared for nobility. They're often so... useless."

"That is definitely the impression I got from the few I've met," I agreed. "You know he made Alistair sleep in the stables with the animals? I can't even believe it. If the man wasn't supposedly on his deathbed I might just kill him myself for that. Who could do that to a child?" I shook my head. "No wonder Alistair is how he is."

"He does have a way of... letting the world step on him, doesn't he?" Zevran mused, running his fingertips up and down my neck.

"Exactly," I agreed. "I worry about him because of it."

He made a sound of what seemed to be agreement. "Where else will your grand quest be taking us?"

"Circle tower after Redcliffe," I said. "Not looking forward to that, but we have a treaty obliging the mages to provide support to the Grey Wardens in the event of a blight. If we want their help I'll _need_ to invoke that. The Chantry just won't let any go otherwise."

"You don't hope to see your old friends?"

"I didn't leave on the best terms," I said.

Zevran shifted so he was looking at me. "I'd gathered as much from what little everyone seems to know. No one has the entire story, though."

Sighing, I looked at the fire while chewing on my bottom lip. "I helped my best friend escape. Duncan conscripted me before I could be punished. There's more... but it was bad. Like, I probably would have been executed bad."

"Hmmm" he said noncommittally. "You know, the manner in which I left the Crows was rather spectacular. This is perhaps, oh, two, two and half months ago. I completely bungled an assignment and instead of slinking home in defeat or trying again I decided to enlist on the side of my target." I giggled. "Oh, it gets so much better. Or worse, from the Crow's point of view, I suppose. Not only did I join my target on her grand heroic quest, I found myself utterly powerless in the face of her seductive charms. It was mere _weeks_ before I ended up completely naked in her tent, and returned every night thereafter! Can you imagine!"

I started actually laughing then. Zevran made a satisfied sound and leaned back against me again. "My _seductive charms_?" I said. "From what I recall you were like a statue in the face of everything I could think of. I had to _literally_ grab you and jam my tongue in your mouth!"

"Part of me certainly _felt_ carved out of stone," Zevran said, a suggestive grin on his face.

I giggled again, shaking my head. "You hid it well," I said. "Um, speaking figuratively. Although literally as well, I suppose." We both broke down in laughter at that. "I figured you would try and put me off for that absurd bet."

"What kind of idiot do you take me for?" Zevran said. "Turn down a beautiful woman inviting me to her bed? Absolutely not."

"Beautiful, is it?"

"Oh, not this again!" Zevran laughed. "Always fishing for compliments. You _know_ that you are. How would you feel if I constantly pressed for flattery?"

"Go ahead," I offered.

"Well?" Zevran said. "Go on, I'm listening."

Giggling, I leaned closer, speaking close to his ear. "Well. The first thing that crossed my mind when we met was that I must have the most _horrid_ luck ever since I manage to run across one of the most handsome men I've ever seen and what's he do? Tries to kill me!"

Zevran looked pleased. "So... not just handsome, but one of the most handsome men you've _ever_ seen?"

"Definitely," I said. "And that accent? Wow. Of course, this is all after I debated kicking you for trying to look up my robes and rejected the idea since it would have just given you a much clearer view," Zevran laughed at that.

He smirked. "All right, I understand the fishing for compliments now. I didn't think my attempts to stare through your skirt was quite so obvious, though. The head injury I got when you sent me flying into a boulder must have thrown off my judgment."

While I curled up on my bedroll later that night Zevran stretched out, yawning. "I should get to bed," he mumbled, looking at me.

"All right," I said. "Sleep well, Zev." He gave me a strange look for a moment, I probably wouldn't have even noticed had it not been for the way his elven eyes reflected what little light there was. I briefly wondered what I looked like to him in this lighting, knowing elves could see far better in the dark than humans. "You all right?" I asked.

"Yes, fine," he mumbled. "It's nothing. I will see you in the morning." I smiled at him and, after quickly pulling his armor back on, Zevran left.

I could hear Alistair stop him on his way back to his own tent. "I want to ask you something," he said. "What are your intentions with her?"

"She's only a few feet away, you realize," Zevran said. "Probably sitting in her tent listening to our every word. I highly doubt she has fallen asleep so quickly."

"Don't dodge the question," Alistair said. "I'm serious."

"Your brotherly concern is touching," I could tell Zevran was playing with him. "Or is it something else. Are you worried for my safety, perhaps? She is a very dangerous woman, after all. Did you know mages can go off by mistake? I had no idea! Ah, but the risk only adds to the excitement."

I could hear Alistair sigh. "I'm just asking what your intentions are. You _did_ try to kill us all, remember?"

"I remember, I was there as well, after all. She spared my life, though. The blood debt has brought us… closer together."

I covered my mouth to smother my giggles. "Are you smirking?" Alistair said, sounding angry. "You are! You're smirking at me!"

"I assure you, ser, there is _no_ smirking here. Not at all."

"Well… watch yourself," Alistair said. "I'm keeping an eye on you."

"Really?" Zevran said, now sounding… annoyed. "Well, can you _see_ me now, leaving her tent? Your concern seems rather overblown since I do not actually _sleep_ next to the woman in question, wouldn't you say?" I winced. He wasn't annoyed at Alistair. That was annoyance at me. I suppose that would explain the strange expression on his face before leaving.

With a sigh of frustration and guilt I fell back to my bedroll. I really didn't want to think about Zevran being upset with me. Maybe at first I hadn't asked him to stay since Oghren's warning not to fall asleep near him echoed in my mind, but really, I knew very well he wasn't a danger to me by now. He wasn't then, either, really, I just didn't realize it. I'd since learned that Zevran took giving his word very seriously.

Even though we'd known each other for a couple months I found I'd come to enjoy his company a great deal, and not just for the more... physical aspects of our relationship. He was clever and sarcastic, his comments never failed to make me smile. That he also lived with a lack of any degree of personal freedom for so many years gave us an understanding the rest of the group didn't seem to share. He was the only person among our group who hadn't reacted negatively to me being a mage, either, besides Oghren who obviously wouldn't have even _heard_ the Chantry teachings, or Morrigan. Even Leliana, who was normally so sweet, once asked me if the rumor we could turn people into toads was true, looking very nervous the entire time.

Not to mention the way my stomach always seemed to somersault whenever he smiled at me.

Wait. Where did that come from?

I pushed the thought out of my head, reminding myself we were only friends. Friends who had sex on a regular basis, but friends. That had been our agreement from the very beginning, with both of us making it very clear there was no possibility or desire for anything more. Just friends. Friends who shared their life stories and cuddled by the fire, friends who seemed to find excuses to touch each other during the day for no apparent reason, but friends.

Oh.

I spent a restless night trying to get my thoughts in order and failing rather miserably.

Alistair slowed his pace to walk near me the next morning. "So," he said. "Redcliffe. Soon. Before dinner, probably."

"Yes?" I replied, not quite sure what he was getting at.

"I grew up in Redcliffe," he said.

"I know," I said. "That's why we're going." I looked up at him wondering what I was missing. I was tired, but not so tired that a normal conversation should confound me.

"Yes, I told you that," he said, looking nervous. "So... I told you how my mother was a serving girl, right?"

"You did," I said. "Are... you all right?"

"Just fine," he said, looking anything but. "Well, yes. Mother was a maid. The Arl wasn't my father. That was never in question. But... the reason he raised me for so long was because..." Alistair took a deep breath. "My father was King Maric." He spoke that part so quickly it came out as though it was all one word.

"_What?_" I said, practically screaming as I stopped in the middle of the road. "King Maric? Maric the Savior? Maric son of Moira the Rebel Queen? _That_ King Maric?"

"Um. Yes." He groaned. "Look, I should have told you a long time ago. I _know_ that. But... it doesn't _matter_. It never mattered to me, it just made my life more complicated."

I stared at him, jaw hanging open. "Maker's breath, Alistair. How could you not tell me? Don't you see how important this is?"

"No, I don't," he said. "It doesn't matter. I'm the same person I was half an hour ago when you didn't know."

"That is _not_ what I mean," I said. "Look, does Loghain know?"

He made a face. "Probably. I don't see why not. He was Maric's best friend, and I know Maric knew about me."

I bent over, putting my hands on my knees and taking a deep breath. Screaming at Alistair and beating his head into the road until some sense worked its way through his skull wouldn't help anyone. It was very, _very_ tempting, though.

"Maggie?" he said, sounding nervous. "I know I should have told you. I'm _really_ sorry. I just... I wish I never had to think about it. I told you now so you heard it from me and not the Arl or someone at the castle."

"Alistair," I said slowly, trying to explain why this was so damned important. "Right now you are the _only_ direct descendant of the line that has ruled Ferelden for as long as there has _been_ a Ferelden. You are the only living _direct _heir of Calenhad and, from what I've gathered, Loghain is attempting to take the throne himself despite having no noble, much less royal, blood. You don't think he would see a Theirin bastard wandering the countryside as something of a _huge bloody threat_?" I pushed my hair back, pacing. "You're heir to the damned throne, you know that? You should be the king. Right _now_. The moment King Cailin died the Landsmeet should have put you on the throne in Denerim, and if they knew you existed I bet they would have."

"No!" he said, backing away from me, looking horrified. "No! I'm not the... heir to the throne. No. I'm just an uncomfortable and embarassing secret for the Theirin line, nothing more."

"You _ARE_ the Theirin line," I snapped, grabbing him by his shoulders. "You are the _only. Bloody. Living. Theirin_!_" _I kicked a rock and shrieked with frustration, tugging on my hair. Zevran put a hand on my back to calm me. Taking a deep breath I looked back at Alistair. "Look, we'll figure something out. But, well, you can't keep your head in the sand about this. Sooner or later someone much more important than me is going to figure it out."

"I'm _not_ heir to the throne," he insisted again. "If anyone is it would be Arl Eamon, he's a noble. I'm a commoner's son."

"_Arl Eamon_?" I snorted. "Right. You know how many Arls there are in Ferelden, each as noble as the last? If it leaves the line of Calenhad it would probably go to... shoot, what's his name..." I bit my nail, trying to remember my Politics and Government of Ferelden classes. "Teyrn Cousland in Highever. Teyrns are second in power only to the King, and the Cousland line dates back to the founding of the country, too. Or the Teyrn of Gwaren, but the Teyrn of Gwaren is a bloody commoner and you can't think the nobles will forget that. Which is probably _why_ he's currently having so much trouble taking the throne right now! Which is probably a big part of why he's trying to _kill us!_"

"You didn't hear?" Leliana said. I looked over at her. "The Cousland family, they were _killed_. Slaughtered by Arl Howe. He's claiming they were treasonous, but I do not think anyone really believes him. I got the distinct impression Arl Howe wasn't very well respected."

"Maker's breath," I said. "The whole family?"

"No one knows where the children are," she said. "The eldest, he was in the same battle as you, although his wife and son's bodies were found. The youngest just disappeared. She may have escaped, but no one has seen her since. Very mysterious. I heard it just before we met in Lothering."

"Arl _Howe_, did you say?" Zevran spoke up. Leliana nodded. "I have met the man. He is... rather unpleasant. Very much the serpent, if you understand my meaning. It was Arl Howe who contacted the Crows on Loghain's behalf."

"Great," I muttered. "So... Arl Howe is working with Loghain. Loghain's trying to take the throne for himself. And the family which would have been the natural choice for second in line were just entirely wiped out by Loghain's ally. The same ally who came up with the idea of importing assassins from halfway across Thedas just to hunt down two Grey Wardens whose experience can be counted in mere months." Shaking my head I looked at Alistair. "Do you see why Loghain would consider you a threat now?"

"Possibly," Alistair said, wincing.

"Right," I said. "But hey. When I say you're a royal bastard for keeping this from me it can be true on multiple levels!"

He actually laughed at that. "I should use that line." I couldn't help joining him. "You're angry at me," he said after we stopped laughing.

"No," I said. "I wish you'd told me sooner but, well, there's nothing we can do either way."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I should have. It's just... all my life it's made me different. Duncan kept me from the fighting because of it. The other Templars thought I was either putting on airs or..." He sighed. "I just wanted to be accepted for me, not because of who my father is."

"Alistair, you were my friend before I knew, and you're still just as much my friend now. It makes no difference to me. I mean, really, if we could get past the whole templar-mage thing do you think something like a famous father will matter? That's _way_ less of a big deal on a day to day basis."

"Really?" he looked incredibly relieved.

"Absolutely," I said. "I just hope you remember us little people when you take your throne, my prince." I bowed elaborately, laughing, and he smacked me in the shoulder.

"Oh, very funny. This is how it's going to be?"

"Nah," I said. "Although if you want my advice, make sure your crown is gold. It would look better with your hair."

"Well _that_ I knew," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I figured that out _years_ ago. Gold looks fantastic with my hair. Silver makes it look washed out."

"You know, now that I think about it, you do look an awful lot like your half brother."

"I have better hair," Alistair said quickly.

"True," I agreed. "You're also about a thousand times smarter, too, so there's that."

"It's the common blood," Zevran suggested. "Inbreeding for generations... perhaps not the best plan when one hopes for intelligence."

"Truly?" Morrigan said, sounding horrified. "Just how is it this nation manages to function when the last reigning monarch's intelligence compares _negatively_ to Alistair's?"

"As you can clearly _see_," Alistair said to her, sounding annoyed. "It functions _very poorly_." We all started laughing at that, resuming our hike now that the tension had been broken.

"How much do you think this will complicate things?" Zevran asked me quietly as we walked.

"Not sure," I said. "I mean, if it does complicate things it has been from the beginning and I was just in the dark. It does explain why Alistair was sent with me at Ostagar." Zevran gave me a curious look. I explained how we were given an 'easy' job to keep us safe. Me, because Duncan apparently had some long term plans that would be better accomplished if I was not a corpse, and Alistair, as I was now realizing, because he was next in line for the throne. Perhaps Cailin was smarter than I gave him credit for. Maybe he knew how dangerous the battle would be from the beginning and that's why he made sure his father's only other child was more likely to survive. Not that we would ever know, of course.

"Are you angry with him?"

"Not really," I said. "I mean, I can't blame him for wanting to hide it. It hasn't done anything to make his life better, you know? If I could realistically find a way to hide that I'm a mage I probably would, so I suppose I can understand."

"You could always start wearing leather armor, stop carrying a staff," he suggested. "You don't need the staff for most spells, yes?"

I made a face. "I'd feel funny without my robes. And they're not just clothing, they're enchanted. They have runes marked into the seams and lyrium woven into the fabric to enhance certain spells." Shrugging I looked over. "Besides, why bother? We can't seem to go five hours without someone or something attacking us. As soon as that happened my cover would be blown."

"True," he said. "But... after all this, should you want to avoid the Circle?"

"I'll probably stay with the Grey Wardens," I said. "It really isn't something you, you know, retire from. So hopefully it won't be an issue. If I do end up going apostate, well, it would be more complicated." Zevran gestured for me to elaborate. "Any templar could tell I was a mage. You can't hide it from them. So there's that. But also, the Circle has my phylactery. They could find me wherever I am."

"Phylactery?"

"A vial of blood they take from everyone when they arrive at the circle. Templars can use it to track the mage if they escape."

Zevran looked thoughtful, I could see his brow furrow. "That sounds a good deal like _blood magic_," he finally said. "How delightfully hypocritical of them."

"From the Chantry would you expect anything less?"

"Given how often I've seen them hire the Crows? Not at all!" We both laughed, our hands brushing against each other. "I'd like to ask you something, if I may," Zevran said after a moment.

"Sure," I said.

"So... I understand your quest. Grey Wardens, saving the world, all that. And that's very impressive and important and so on. But, once this is said and done... what happens to me?"

"What do you mean?" I asked him, not quite sure what he was getting at.

"I swore an oath to serve you," Zevran reminded me. "But, when your work is done will you have much need for an assassin following you everywhere?"

I sighed. "Zev, you can't _really_ think I'm going to force you to follow any oath you made to save your life, can you? You're a free man."

He actually smiled slightly at that. "I made it willingly, but if that's how you see it, all the better. Although for the moment I think it would be smarter for me to stay, given my standing with the Crows." For some reason that bothered me to hear. Not that he would stay, but that it was only because we could keep him safe from the Crows. I guess I had hoped it was because he _wanted_ to be here. "Let's say, though, that when the time comes... I find I don't wish to leave? What then?"

Without realizing it I had started to smile when he said that. "I could always use a friend," I said, my mind flashing back to the disjointed thoughts that ran through my head for most of the previous night.

"Oh?" he said, sounding almost disappointed. "Not... more than that?" I stopped in my tracks for a second, surprised. Looking at him I noticed he actually looked very slightly nervous.

"I..." I muttered, not sure how to respond. _Friends!_ My mind screamed. _Tried to kill you! And you're a damned mage, in case you've forgotten. _ _Why bother hoping for more with anyone? _And then I thought about the goofy way his smile made me feel and how his accent gave me tingles and how nice it was to sit with his arms around me by the fire.

Oh damn.

"I, um, I think I'd like that."

He gave me that smile again, eyebrow twitching up and the skin around his eyes crinkling. "So would I, I should think," Zevran said. I grinned back at him.

* * *

_In which nothing is done but many secrets are revealed. A bit of game dialogue, but I tried to tweak or rewrite most of it so it's more conversational and less like small isolated orations, and actually, you know, original and not just writing down what they say in the game. ;)_  
_Glad to see everyone found the last chapter a smut success! Thank you so much for the reviews! :)_


	24. You would have made a horrid rogue

"Oh good," Morrigan said behind me. "_Another_ Chantry. They dot the landscape like some sort of rash." I gave her a sympathetic look. I wasn't any more excited about entering the haven of Templars and priests than she was.

We had just arrived in Redcliffe only to find out the entire town had been under attack every night from... something. No one had been quite clear on _what_ yet, though. Following the man who met us on the bridge, I absentmindedly listened to Morrigan and Zevran speaking behind me. She was pointing out that, should Alistair become king, he would likely have use of a personal assassin. I suppose she had a point.

"You've such a devious mind, my dear," I heard him say. "Why have we not made love as of yet?"

I resisted the urge to turn around and smack him. Or hit him with a good deal of ice. Perhaps lightning. _Oh, not more than friends? Not more than friends? _I see how long that lasted. Not even half a day and he was trying to get _Morrigan_ in bed? Did he have some kind of mage fetish or something? Was that even a _thing_?

This, right here, was _exactly_ why I had so successfully made sure to avoid any semblance of commitment for the entire duration of my romantic life. _Maybe it isn't such a bad idea_, I told myself. _You're not in the tower, might as well start acting like the rest of the world_. _He's got a stupid fantastic smile._ Three bloody hours. Well screw that. I would toss myself at the next good looking man I saw.

"For what purpose?" Morrigan told him. "I would sooner stab you in the face than let you touch me, elf."

I needed to buy her presents. Shiny ones. Lots and lots of them. And tell her that yes, she was right, relationships were a waste of time. After all, my first attempt lasted only hours before he tried getting her in bed.

Oh, _hello_, next good looking man. Standing at the front of the Chantry was an auburn-haired man in very fine clothing, directing people here and there. He was obviously the one in charge. He was also very, _very_ handsome.

The villager who led us to the Chantry told him we were visitors to see the Arl. The well-dressed man thanked him and turned his attention to us. As usual everyone took a step back, making it clear I would be doing the talking. I was actually starting to get used to it, although really, appointing a mage group spokesperson was perhaps not the finest idea. I suspect, discounting the other mage, the only option that would be more poorly received would be appointing Leliana and her Orlesian accent spokesperson. "Greetings, friends," the man said, smiling despite the obvious strain he was under. "My name is Teagan, Bann of Rainesfere, brother to the arl."

Before I could say anything Alistair actually spoke up. "I remember you, Bann Teagan," he said. "We haven't seen each other since I was much younger. The last time I may have been, um... covered in mud."

"Covered in mud?" Teagan said, sounding confused. It was like a light went on behind his eyes only seconds later, though. Breaking into a dazzling smile he walked over, putting his hands on Alistair's shoulders. "Alistair! You're alive!" He looked overjoyed. "At last, some good news. Teyrn Loghain has been telling everyone all the Grey Wardens perished at Ostagar. Among... other things." It was clear he took the words of Loghain with a substantial quantity of salt.

"You don't believe him, I take it?" I asked.

"That he pulled his men from a Grey Warden trap? That Cailin risked the whole nation for his own glory? Hardly. His words are those of a desperate man." I breathed a sigh of relief. I had been wondering what kind of reception we would get once we left Orzammar, where the Grey Wardens were very clearly held in higher esteem than the Ferelden monarchy. He looked closer at me. "You are a Grey Warden as well?" I nodded, flashing him my best smile. "A pleasure to meet you, I just wish it were under better circumstances. You came to see my brother?"

"We did," I confirmed. "Initially we hoped to secure his assistance against the blight and, if necessary, these... accusations against us." I had no problem telling him this, if he was the arl's brother he would be the one best able to help us should the arl die. "After we learned of his illness Alistair wanted to visit for personal reasons as well."

"Unfortunately seeing him won't be possible right now," Teagan said. "The castle has been silent for days. No guards patrol outside, and no one responds when we yell from the locked gate."

"And the attacks your man mentioned?" I said.

"They began after the castle fell silent," he said. "Each night the gates open and evil... things surge forward to attack."

That was... vague. "Can you be more specific?"

"Some call them the walking dead," he said. "They look by all accounts, including my own eyes. to be decomposing corpses"

I glanced back at Morrigan, inclining my neck slightly. She stepped closer. "Sounds like a demon to me," I whispered. "Possessing the corpses of the fallen."

"I agree," she said. "I suspect if we entered that castle we would soon discover a possessed mage."

I nodded. "We can't let this go on. Demons running unchecked..."

She groaned, rolling her eyes. "It seems there are no ends to the demands on your time. How _did_ these people function while you were locked away in the tower?"

"I have no idea," I said, shaking my head. "But, we need their help, and to get it we'll have to help them first." She sighed, stepping back with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Is there any way to enter the castle?" I said. "We have a fairly good idea of what would be causing these attacks, they'll continue until cut off at the source."

"The gates are locked and barred. We can't throw men at the walls to storm it when they're needed to defend the village."

I glanced around the Chantry. It was filled with women, children, and the elderly. Injured were sprinkled among them. "Can you evacuate?"

He sighed. "We tried. The first large group was attacked. Later I discovered they were even attacking any individuals who attempted to sneak off on their own, day or night. Whatever is causing this, it wants this village dead."

"Maker's breath," I gasped, horrified. Even if I wasn't disgusted by simply leaving these people to their fate, there was a chance we would just be attacked if we tried anyhow. "All right. We'll help you tonight. Tomorrow I need to get in that castle, though. I don't care if you need to tie every ladder in the village together so we can scale the wall."

He grasped my hands in his. "Thank you, my lady."

Of course, then Sten began to add his complaints. I spun around. "Sten, if you don't like it you're free to leave. I'm not abandoning an entire village to get slaughtered." Smiling, I added. "And by leave I mean _try_ to leave since, if I'm right about what is causing this, odds are we'll just be attacked the moment we attempt to go beyond the village boundaries, just as the escaping citizens have been." He grumbled but didn't say anything else.

Turning back to Teagan, I listened as he explained the defense plans, who I should speak to outside, and where they could be found. I glanced down at his hand and noticed he wore no rings beyond a signet bearing a crest of some sort. "And your family, ser, are they safe?" I asked, eyes wide.

"My family...?" he replied, looking confused.

"Your wife? Children?" I replied, keeping up the charade.

"Oh!" he said, understanding. "You think I'm married?" I nodded. "I... no. No, I've never had the pleasure. If I did, I'd be lucky to find a woman as lovely as yourself." Wow... that was forward even by _tower_ standards! "If I may be so bold, what of you, my lady? Are you married?"

"Ser," I giggled, putting my hand to my cheek and batting my eyelashes at him. "I'm a mage!"

"Mages can marry," he smiled. "At least, that is what I've heard. And please, call me Teagan."

"They can," I agreed. "But the man would need to be _very_ brave."

"I can think of several reasons why one would be willing to be so brave." I giggled at that, probably _actually_ blushing. "But I am too bold, my lady. This is hardly the time for such... banter. Please accept my apology."

"For what, Teagan? You've done nothing to offend me."

"You are too kind, my lady," he smiled. "Amongst many other things."

Zevran gave me a pointed look as we walked down the Chantry steps. "Was there a purpose to that demonstration?"

_"You've such a devious mind, my dear,"_ I said, repeating his earlier words to Morrigan. _ "Why have we not made love as of yet?"_

"You can't honestly believe I was serious," he said, looking amused. Well, not when I thought about it _rationally. _But I certainly wasn't about to say that out loud. He chuckled, most likely seeing the answer on my face. "I have never been one to tremble in fear at the sight of a mage but that woman tests even_ my_ resolve. Although watching her make faces and trip over her own feet trying to step away from me is rather amusing. And now that I mention making faces, _you_ would have made a horrid rogue," Zevran added, taking my hand and kissing it. "Or card player, for that matter." I tried not to smile and prove him right. He looked at me and chuckled.

"Do you see that?" I heard Leliana say behind us.

"I have eyes, do I not?" Morrigan said.

"Isn't it sweet?" Leliana said. "Against all the odds-"

"What?" Morrigan said. "Against all the odds two people who are almost completely indiscriminate when it comes to their bed partners end up in bed together? The only thing that astounds me is how long it took."

"No!" Leliana argued. "I think there may actually be something there. She must see some part of him that we don't. Perhaps there is more to Zevran than it seems?"

"I suspect she has seen a great many parts of him we have not. I can only hope those parts continue to remain hidden from me, safely under his clothing."

"Bah!" Leliana snapped. "That is not what I meant."

Morrigan sighed theatrically. I suspected she was building up to something. "Are you listening to them?" Zevran whispered.

"It's all I can do not to double over laughing!" I whispered back.

"I will admit," Morrigan said. "Perhaps I was a poor judge of character. I can accept when I have been wrong."

"That is a very good attitude to have," Leliana said, sounding pleased.

"I did not take her for a fool," Morrigan concluded. "But it appears that I may have been wrong in that estimation."

"Ouch," I whispered. Zevran looked at me and snickered.

We found the mayor who managed to both question if women could be Grey Wardens and then make a comment about how they had to 'worry' about magic now. "I don't want to appear ungrateful," he said after these slights. I tried not to roll my eyes.

"Wise idea," Zevran said from next to me, his hand resting on my back. "I hear the survival rate of ingrates is _remarkably _low."

He looked at Zevran and I braced myself for some kind of elf comment to round out our discussion, but apparently after taking in the clearly well-worn armor, dangerous looking blades, and tattoos the mayor didn't feel quite so talkative.

I tried to reassure him that we could win. I wasn't particularly sure about _their_ odds, to be honest. I'd never fought animated corpses, but I suspected it wouldn't be easy what with their already being _dead_. It might not even be a matter of killing them, just a matter of, say, disabling them enough that they were no longer a threat. I figured our group could handle just about anything tossed at us, but as for a bunch of random villagers who were more used to fishing than fighting, I had less confidence. Of course, I couldn't tell _them_ that.

Starting at one end of town we begged everyone we could find to help the militia and, when that failed, bullied them. It's amazing what people, even dwarves, will do when faced with an angry mage, her hands engulfed in flames. We had also found a young boy that was hiding and send him back to the Chantry after buying a sword off him. Really, it was about ten times nicer than Alistair's and with the boy and his sister being orphans I'd feel horrid just _taking_ it, broke or not.

We even managed to coax the blacksmith to work again after promising to look for his daughter when we entered the castle the next day. "Do you honestly think this is a promise we can keep?" Zevran asked me, looking curious as we left the blacksmith.

"Sure," I said. "We can find her. I didn't promise she'd be _alive_ when we did, after all. It would be nice but... not realistic." He nodded. I glanced over at Alistair and gestured for him to come closer. "Look," I said. "We help them tonight, but tomorrow if they try to put us off getting in the castle again I'm not doing it. Morrigan and I both have a strong idea we're going to find a possessed mage in the castle, and this will keep going on until we kill them."

He nodded. "I suspected as much. Templars are also trained to recognize what demons are capable of."

"You think this is the work of a demon?" Zevran said, looking vaguely horrified.

"Almost sure of it," I said. "More than a bit annoyed, too, since I suspect if we had anyone to help us over the wall we could have stopped everything well before dark and avoided this entire mess." Alistair made a face, clearly not liking the idea of refusing to help the village beyond tonight, but unable to find a valid argument against forcing our way into the castle tomorrow regardless of what was asked of us.

"Right," he sighed finally, walking off to speak with Leliana. She had been grumpy ever since I talked a priest into giving us some amulets for the Redcliffe knights. They weren't magical or blessed in any way, but if the knights thought they were perhaps it would give them that extra bit of confidence. Alistair had agreed, but Leliana didn't like lying where the Maker was concerned.

"You have... faced a demon before?"

"Just once," I said. "But... I don't think we'll be fighting a demon. I think we'll be facing a possessed mage. Perhaps an abomination. Those will be easier than fighting a demon itself."

"Oh, is that all?" he said, eyebrow twitching upward. "When did you fight a demon?"

"Tell you over a drink?" I said, glancing at the tavern. "We've got time to kill before dark and I think everything's done that can be."

We hiked up the absurdly steep hill that led to the local tavern. "This is quite clever!" Zevran said, looking down once we reached the top. "I suppose when someone has had one too many they simply shove them out the door and let them roll away. Marvelous."

Within moments of entering the talkative waitress had told us the owner was a cad who groped her and hid in his cellar instead of helping the militia- who he was also gorging on the price of drinks, everyone in town was poor, and she was suspicious of an elf sitting alone in the corner. I sighed. Bartender first.

The moment I walked over he started in with some sort of "hey stranger, tough times, bet they make you thirsty" routine.

"So… you're charging the militia for drinks?"

"I'm not running a charity here!" he snapped.

"You won't defend your home with everyone else, and you milk the last few coppers from those brave enough to protect _you?" _Zevran stood next to me, arms folded, an expression of cold contempt on his face.

"Murdoch and Bann Teagan said we don't have to fight," he said.

"Do I look like Murdoch or Bann Teagan?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "So… I think you should earn yourself some goodwill by offering free drinks to the militia. And, when night falls, I expect to see you outside with everyone else."

He opened his mouth but Zevran spoke up. "Perhaps you should ask yourself if we look like the sort of people who enjoy arguing?" He glanced from Zevran, who had started cleaning under his nails with a particularly wicked looking curved dagger, to me, his eyes trailing up to the top of my staff.

With a grumble the bartender went outside to join the militia.

"Very subtle," I said, looking at his hands.

"I thought as much," he replied. "Suspicious elf next?"

I nodded and the two of us walked across the room, joining the young man at his table. "Not looking for company," he said.

"Who are you?" I asked, ignoring him.

"Someone who isn't here to talk," he snapped.

"So… you are just here to act suspiciously, then?" Zevran said.

"What?" The man looked nervous. "I… I'm not acting suspiciously."

"Oh, now that _was_ convincing." He sighed dramatically. "So… we can go through the usual song and dance where you deny doing anything, we insist otherwise, and you eventually give in and tell us. Or you can save us all a good deal of time by simply telling us why you are here now." When the man stared at Zevran in shock without responding he leaned forwards, smiling. "There are no less than thirty-seven items in this room I can kill you with- and that is not even counting the actual weapons, of course. My companion is perhaps even more deadly. She need only flick one of her lovely wrists and you will find yourself engulfed in flames."

It turned out he had been sent by Loghain to spy on the castle. After he went to join the militia the waitress brought us two pints of ale.

"Wow, I should just let you do all the bullying. You're much better at it than me. I mean, thirty seven items?"

"You do _not_ want to see the kind of damage a corkscrew or one of those taps can cause in the hands of someone who possesses both determination and a strong stomach," Zevran said, sounding completely serious.

"No, I don't think I do," I agreed.

"So you have actually fought a demon?"

I got up so we were sitting on the same side of the table. "Every mage has," I said. "That's part of the big secret test to go from apprentice to mage. The fighting isn't _horrible_, but the test itself is since you've also got another demon trying to possess you all the while." I looked down at my drink. "I just wanted a drink if I was going to mention it since it's a fairly miserable subject."

"We did find two more people for the militia, so I suppose visiting the tavern was a wise idea. At least, that is what I plan to tell the others so they do not complain about us sneaking off for a drink."

"Good plan," I agreed.

"Why is it so upsetting to you? You survived."

"Lots of reasons. Half my friends died in their Harrowings, so there's that."

"Those are rather horrible odds," Zevran said. "Even the training to become a Crow is not so... prone to failure."

"I sometimes wonder if it isn't to test us, just to sort of... thin the herd." I made a face. "I just don't know how they all failed. It seemed so _obvious_ to me. I'd hate to think any of them could fall for something like that. But maybe it's different for everyone. Mine was an appeal to pride, an offer to make me a more powerful mage. Which is, of course, tempting but…"

"Obvious," Zevran said.

"Exactly. Maybe others had something offering them love, a family, a home… who knows. They say demons always know just what you want but I really don't sit up nights wishing I was a better mage. Something offering me freedom would have probably given me a moment's pause, though."

"That I can understand," Zevran said. "Even a gilded cage is a cage."

I nodded. "And that worries me. Since I wonder if I would fall for a demon if they came up with just the right offer. The idea of ending up possessed…" My stomach twisted at the thought and I shuddered. "And there's probably some poor mage in that castle now being used by a demon to cause all this right now. They say you're still aware when you're possessed. So they may be slowly going mad since they're powerless to stop what their own body is doing. And we have to kill them. And all I can think is one wrong step, one moment of hesitation, and that could be me."

"Knowing that is what makes you cautious, is it not?" he said.

"True," I agreed. "Nothing I can do, at any rate. And we should probably get moving."

We walked outside and saw the others gathered near the path between castle and village. "Where were you?" Alistair asked.

"Finding more recruits," Zevran supplied, pointing at the bartender and Loghain's spy. Alistair nodded, looking pleased.

Green mist began to pour down from the direction of the castle not long after dark. Morrigan made a noise, she must have been sensing the same damage to the Veil I was. Even Alistair began to shift from foot to foot in discomfort.

"The air itself feels _wrong_," Leliana said.

"'Tis the damage to the Veil you feel," Morrigan said. "Whatever power is being drawn to animate these creatures. For someone who is neither mage nor templar to notice does not bode well."

I made a noise of agreement. "The Veil?" Leliana said.

"For you the Fade is just where your mind goes to dream. For a mage it's the source of our power, but also the home of spirits and demons. The Veil is the barrier between it and this world." I saw something moving further down the path. A fireball ignited the oil spread out in the hopes it would slow them. Leliana began shooting off arrows as Morrigan and I covered the path with fire and lightning storms. "Here we go," I warned as they grew closer. Teagan hadn't lied; they _were_ corpses.

Alistair and I exchanged a glance and grinned. Yelling "Tuesday!" in unison we both ran forward. I started freezing every monster I could while he shattered them.

When the army of undead finally slowed to a trickle and then stopped I looked around. All of the knights and men we recruited were alive, and there were severed heads _everywhere_.

"I think I won!" Zevran said. "Twenty-six beheadings!" I couldn't respond, though, since a man ran up the hill from the village to tell us more undead were attacking below, these ones swimming from across the lake.

Running after him, we found the militia overwhelmed in the town square.

It was nearly dawn before the attack was over.

Falling to my knees I took a deep breath. "I could sleep for a month."

"That sounds like a wonderful plan," Zevran said, sitting next to me. I looked around. The bartender, who hadn't even bothered to put on _armor_, had fallen. I saw a handful of other corpses as well. Overall, though, I was surprised by how few died.

Alistair walked over, carrying his helmet. "This is much better than I hoped." He offered each of us a hand and we stood. "Best tell Teagan the worst is over for now."

"Hopefully he'll have someplace where we can sleep for a few hours," I mused. "And food."

"Food would be _spectacular_," Alistair said.

We walked to the Chantry and I stepped aside so Alistair could bang his fist on the door. "All clear!" I shouted. A moment later the door opened. Before I could even figure out what was going on everyone had poured out, the priest started talking, and Teagan was handing me a very expensive looking antique helmet in thanks for saving the village. Once the priest finished the prayers for the dead Teagan told us to meet him across town by the windmill.

So much for sleep.

Once we made it to the windmill Teagan began telling us about a secret passage into the castle. "I really wish you would have told us about this earlier," I said to him. He began to explain it was because he needed help defending the village, apparently not realizing we could have prevented the entire _attack_ on the village in the first place, but was cut off by a woman running towards us.

Considering my entire opinion of Arl Eamon's wife had been formed by finding out she was responsible for basically selling a young child away from the only home he knew to the Chantry, I had to say, she completely lived up to my every expectation. Her voice could shatter glass. She was completely unconcerned by the number of people in the village who had died over the previous few days. She was rude beyond description. Oh, and she was so obviously lying I think even Oghren picked up on it, and he had all but emptied an entire keg in the tavern by himself in the last half hour.

"You can't go with her!" I said to Teagan after she had retreated to wait for him.

"What choice do I have?" he asked. He pressed a signet ring into my hand. "This will give you access to the secret passage. Perhaps I can provide a distraction, make it easier for you to enter unnoticed."

"This is a trap. There's… a demon in there, an abomination, a possessed mage. Something horrible. And _she_ is making deals with it to bring you in?" I shook my head. "This is insane. You _can't_ go with her!"

"I won't abandon my family," he said. "My brother and nephew are in there, I'll do whatever I can to save them." I sighed, before nodding in resignation. It was impressive to meet someone who was actually of noble character and not just birth… and it looked like he was about to follow that shrill bitch to his death. "Remember, Eamon is the priority. If you must just get him out, the rest of us are… expendable." And he _knew_ he was walking into his death.

"What?" I snapped. "Absolutely not. Everyone is getting out of there alive, I swear it." Well, I could try at least. But I certainly won't be treating any people as _expendable_.

"You are brave as well as beautiful," he said. Maker's breath, since when was I such a _blusher_? "The Maker smiled on me when he sent you to Redcliffe. If only this had been…"

Before I could really figure _that_ statement out Leliana broke in. "We're just going to send him with _that woman_? This is madness!"

"Madness does seem to be the favored tactic for the week," Sten said dryly.

Teagan smiled at me again. "I can delay no longer. Farewell… and good luck."

He left, walking across the bridge with Arl Eamon's wife as we entered the windmill. "I think Bann Teagan _likes_ you," Alistair whispered, giggling.

"Don't be silly," I said.

"I don't know… he never asked me to call him by his first name. And _I've_ known him since I was an infant."

I rolled my eyes and began climbing down the ladder of the passage after putting Teagan's signet ring on my thumb so I wouldn't lose it. It took a _very_ long time to reach the bottom. With a sinking feeling in my stomach I realized I had just climbed the length of the cliffs, and the beyond that. If this tunnel led to the castle it must go completely under Lake Calenhad. _Who_ would build this? And _how! _Apparently sharing my opinion, Zevran made a noise of discomfort as he looked around.

"The architect of this building was clearly an idiot," Sten said, hopping down.

"I am not enjoying the idea of walking _under_ the lake," Morrigan added.

"It's good to be back underground," Oghren said cheerfully as he hopped the last few rungs. His mood shifted as he looked around, though. "I could build a better tunnel than this, though."

"Are your people not renowned for their stonecraft?" Zevran said.

"My people?" he laughed. "Sure, _dwarves _are known for their stonecraft. Generally not the _Warrior_ caste, though. And especially not_ me_."

"Come on," Alistair said, stepping down moments after Leliana joined us. "The faster we get moving the faster we all get crushed under Lake Calenhad."

Morrigan and I walked near the front, flames conjured in our hands to light the way. At last we reached a large door. I used the ring to unlock it and we stepped into a stone room. "Finally," I breathed, glad to be out of that tunnel.

"I know this place," Alistair said cheerfully. "I locked myself in a cage down here once. Was stuck there for a whole day before anyone noticed I was missing. Ah, good times."

I really ought to kill Arl Eamon's wife.

We began to encounter more of the undead, but nothing like what we faced the previous night. I could hear someone screaming from deeper in the dungeon. "Maggie?" Zevran said after the last of the monsters fell. "Something is troubling you?" He glanced around. "Well, beyond the corpses that keep insisting on standing up and attacking us."

"That voice," I muttered. "It's so familiar."

A handful of the monsters were gathered around one of the cells, evidently trying to get at whoever was inside. "Get away from me!" that same voice yelled. It only took a moment for us to eliminate them, we didn't even need to approach. Between my and Morrigan's magic and Leliana's arrows they were down before we made it halfway to the cell. "Hello?" the prisoner called. "Is someone out there? Who is it?"

"Maker's breath," I gasped, breaking into a run. It _couldn't_ be. It was impossible.

But no. "By all that's holy…. Mags? Is it really you? I can't believe it…"

"You took the words right out of my mouth, Jowan."

* * *

_Yay! Jowan! (I admit neglecting AOA for now because of him. But my love for Jowan is well documented and established.)_  
_I decided there was no rational way a mage or templar could somehow fail to recognize the work of demons. It just didn't make sense. So, the mages and templar now do._  
_According to the toolset the tunnel does go under the lake... who knew? Not me. Doesn't make much sense... but there you have it.  
Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing! (especially given the huge mess that this site seems to be right now!)_


	25. Offering acts of carnal depravity

"I can't believe this," I said, staring at him through the bars. "_You're_ the mage who poisoned Arl Eamon? Why would you do such a thing? Have you gone completely _insane_?"

"I was hired by Teyrn Loghain!" Jowan said. "_The _Teyrn Loghain. I stood right in front of him! What should I have done? He told me he could… fix things with the Circle, so I could go back." He leaned against the bars, resting on his shoulder, hands behind his back. "He said that Arl Eamon was a threat to Ferelden, that I'd be doing a service for my country. Since Lady Isolde was looking for a mage to tutor her son in secret the Teyrn made sure it was me." I sighed as he poured out the rest of his story. The arl's son was a mage and the arlessa wanted an apostate to tutor him in secret so she wouldn't have to send him to the tower. The corpses and other strange happenings began after Jowan had been caught and imprisoned, so… the cause of the problem was someone still in the castle. I winced realizing it was far more likely to be the boy than any of the healers caring for the arl. He kept his hands behind his back as he spoke, pacing in his cell. I made sure to look when he turned for another pace and shuddered.

Morrigan gaped at him. "_He_ is the blood mage you spoke of? Truly? I never would have guessed." I groaned as everyone took a step back.

"Hm," Zevran said. "I don't recall _that_ part of the story."

"I'll explain later," I said to him. "Can you just unlock his cell for now?"

"What?" Alistair stared at me. "You want to let him out? A blood mage? Have _you_ gone completely insane?"

"Jowan, let me see your hands," I said. With a sigh he held them out. They were a bloody mess, every finger broken.

"They… thought I was summoning the demons and did it to keep me from casting any spells. One of the guards told me if the attacks didn't stop they would cut…" he trailed off, looking horrified. "But, no one ever came back."

Zevran took one look and turned, ignoring Alistair, to begin fiddling with the lock. "It is done," he said to me, putting a hand on my arm after he slipped his lockpicks back into a pocket of his armor.

"Thank you," I replied, leaning against him for a moment. "Yes, I'm letting him out," I said, turning back to Alistair. "This isn't up for debate. You'll have to kill me if you want to keep him in there."

"What?" he said, looking horrified. "Maggie, I'm not going to fight you!"

"I'm not leaving my best friend of almost twenty years here to die, Alistair."

"Fine," he sighed. "You know him best."

I nodded, opening the cell door. "Go on ahead, I'll catch up," I said to everyone as I stepped into the cell. "I think Jowan and I have to have a little chat."

He swallowed roughly hearing the tone of my voice and stepped back. "I suppose asking not to be left alone with her would be a waste of time?" my old friend said, glancing at my new friends.

Oghren actually laughed at that. "Something tells me you deserve whatever she does," he said.

"Come on," Alistair said, grumbling. "Let's go see if we can find the smith's daughter." A moment later they were gone, Leliana squeezing my arm before going on, Morrigan casting another doubtful glance at Jowan while shaking her head and muttering "I would never have guessed" again, and Zevran squeezing my hand.

I could hear Sten say "this is why my people have learned to cut out their tongues," as they walked away. I winced. I suppose that answered the 'what do the qunari do to mages' question.

"You've made… um, interesting friends," Jowan said, standing with his back to the cell wall.

"Yep," I said. "Come on, let's go sit in the hall. I don't like cells."

He followed me out. "So… you're going to kill me, right?"

"Don't be an idiot," I said, putting an arm around Jowan's waist to help him walk. "Alistair wouldn't have left unless he thought I was setting you on fire or something." He was unsteady on his feet. It was obvious his hands weren't even the worst of what had been done to him. Getting him settled against the wall I sat next to him. "Hand," I said. He held one out to me and I looked closer. "You're going to have to walk me through this."

Jowan nodded. "First you need to straighten the fingers out." I began and he winced next to me, choking back a sound.

Stopping, I dug through my pack, pulling out a red potion and uncapping it. "Here," I said, holding it up. He opened his mouth so I could pour it in.

"Thank you." Once the bones had been set back into their proper places Jowan began walking me through the healing spells. "No, your second and third finger should be closer together," he said, watching. "Good. Now you're turning your wrist too far. This is healing, not setting fires. It's _subtle_."

Once I had his left hand healed Jowan managed to do the rest on his own, with the help of a couple of my lyrium potions. His left was his off hand so if I did anything horribly wrong hopefully it wouldn't cause as many problems. "This is the first time in weeks I haven't been in pain," he said, leaning back once everything was done.

"I know how you feel," I said. "I've had a broken rib for ages. Pretty sure I did something to one of my legs, too."

He sighed, directing me to stretch out. Jowan checked my ribs, declared two of them broken, and healed both, as well as my sore leg which had a hairline fracture. "Have you been hit in the head lately?" he asked.

"More times than I can count, why?"

"Well, that would explain why you're walking around with a concussion. That's… bad, you know."

"So I've heard," I sighed. While we were sitting a young woman ran past, screaming all the while. "The smith's daughter, I guess," I said when she passed. "Do you have any idea what's _happened_ since we left the tower?"

"Not really," he admitted. "I didn't even know you _had_ left, to be honest. "I've been terrified they might have…"

"Well they almost did!" I snapped. "Lucky for me Duncan was there. He conscripted me into the Grey Wardens before the Templars could do whatever they planned."

He looked relieved. "So… you're a Grey Warden, then? Just like you wanted."

"Well, not quite," I said. "You are currently sitting with one half of the entire Grey Warden order in Ferelden. The other half was the big blond argumentative fellow. He was training to be a Templar before so he can't really help it." I told him what happened at Ostagar and ever since.

"And the others with you?"

"The dark haired woman is an apostate. Her mother is Flemeth, she saved Alistair and I from the battle."

"Flemeth?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, that Flemeth. Unfortunately she never passed her healing skills on to her daughter, though. Morrigan may actually be _worse _than me." He made a shocked noise and chuckled. "Laugh it up," I said. "One of us will probably end up dead since I can't get more than a papercut to stop bleeding. We almost lost Alistair in the Deep Roads and I ended up sick for days from all the lyrium I had to drink to fix him." Jowan paled and I went on. "The redhead was a bard in Orlais. She retired to a life in the Chantry but the Maker gave her a vision that she should help us. No, I don't think I believe it, either," I added when Jowan gave me an incredulous glance. "Maybe it's prophesy, though. It happens, even with non-mages."

"Was that a _qunari?"_

"Yep," I said. "He killed a family in a fit of rage and regretted it instantly. Just sat there waiting for the guards. They locked him up to leave him for the darkspawn. I suggested helping fight them might be a better form of redemption."

"Why did he kill them."

"Lost his sword," I said. Sten had finally told me exactly what happened. "I promised we would try and find it, though." I leaned back against him. "The dwarf joined us in Orzammar. He has no family left, and not much reason to stay in the city. Good man. He's been through more than anyone should ever deal with, though, so he drinks a bit too much. Amazing fighter, though."

"And the elf?" Jowan grinned. "Don't think I couldn't tell what's going on _there_."

"Actually," I said. "The first thing _he _ever said to me was 'The Grey Warden dies here!'" Jowan's neck made a popping sound, that was how quickly he turned to stare at me. "He's an Antivan crow, they're assassins. A big deal, I guess. Loghain hired him to kill us."

"How did he manage to go from 'tried to kill you' to 'having sex with you'?" Jowan said, horrified.

"Long story," I said.

"It would certainly have to be," he replied.

"He's on our side now. The assassination was never personal, it was just business. He didn't even want to be a Crow, anyways." Jowan gave me a dubious look. "He was a slave, they bought him when he was young."

"Oh Maker," Jowan said, actually managing a laugh. "You and your soft heart. That was all it took, I bet. He said he was a slave and you immediately started knitting him sweaters and offering acts of carnal depravity in response."

"I don't know how to knit," I said.

"The point stands." He said, before wrapping his arms around me briefly. "I've missed you so much. I've worried about what happened to you every day."

"Me too," I said. "I thought I'd never see you again." I sighed. "Why, Jowan?"

"Why what?" he said.

"Why all of it. Why blood magic? Why hide it from me?"

"How could I tell you?" he said. "How do you even say something like that?"

"Jowan, we've been best friends since we were children. How could you _not_ tell me?"

"I didn't want you to hate me, or be disappointed."

"I could never hate you," I said. "And I was disappointed you kept such a big secret from me. I always thought we weren't like that. We didn't keep secrets."

"This is bigger than hooking up with a mage or cheating on a test."

"All the more reason not to hide it," I countered. "And _why?_ Or even better, _how_? Please tell me you didn't make any bargains with a—"

"Maker's breath, no!" he shook his head. "I'm an idiot, but I'm not _that_ much of an idiot. I managed to piece it together from books. They all had small bits of it. The only real trick is realizing that you _can_. Once your mind accepts that everything else is easy."

"And why?" I asked again.

He sighed, looking away. "You'll laugh at me for this." I waited for him to go on. "It was… well, it was because of you, really."

I gasped. "What?"

"I don't know," he said, wringing his hands. "I've always been a little jealous of you. I don't have the power you do, I'll never be as great a mage as you are."

"Jowan," I said, reaching for his hand. He shook me off.

"I… thought it would give me more power. More control. I was so _stupid. _And the moment I cast my first spell I knew it was wrong and swore never to use it again." I reached into my pocket and handed him a rag. He wiped his eyes and went on.

"I never meant to make you feel bad," I whispered. "I'm sorry." I never thought my joking and bragging bothered him. He'd never told me and… if it showed, I never noticed.

"It's no one's fault but mine," he said. "I know you would never have intentionally hurt me."

"Even so, I'm sorry. I know I've always been kind of an egotistical jerk."

He gave me a small smile and took my hand. "Ah, that's part of your charm," Jowan said. "If you weren't such an egotistical jerk I wouldn't have had so much fun over the years pointing out all the things you _couldn't_ do." We went silent for a while, sitting in the filthy dungeon. "And then I met Lily," Jowan finally said, voice thick. "And she didn't care about any of the things I wasn't. She loved me for who I am, flaws and all. And I was _so happy_. And then we heard about the Rite of Tranquility… and that's where you came in." He sighed. "What happened to her? Is… please, does she live?"

"They took her away," I said, not wanting to hide the truth from him. "She didn't fight them. I don't know where, though. I left the tower not more than an hour after you did and haven't been back."

He nodded. "My poor Lily. I'm sure she hates me now, not that I can blame her for that. It seems like I'm destined to destroy everything I touch. Lily dead or in Aeonar, my best friend a fugitive." Jowan groaned, burying his face in his hands. "What have I done?"

"Keep me off that list," I said. "I would be exactly where I am with or without you. Duncan was going to recruit me from the beginning. You aren't responsible for Loghain turning on us."

"That's one comfort at least," he said. "So, what now?"

I reached behind me and pulled the knife from my belt. Jowan jumped to his feet and took several steps backwards. "Are you going to kill me?" he asked in a small voice.

"No," I said, standing up. "You're going to teach me. _Now._" I made a grunt of pain as the blade split the flesh of my palm. "Damn. That hurt more than I expected."

"What?" Jowan gasped out, darting forward. He grabbed my hand, quickly casting a healing spell. "No! No no no! I can't. Please don't ask me."

"Yes," I said. "Jowan, you _owe_ me this."

"Do you even know what you're asking?" he said. "Do you _know_ why so many blood mages become possessed? Ever since I learned not a month goes by without some demon appearing in my dreams making promises and offers. No. I'm not letting you do that to yourself."

"I can deal with them," I said.

"Have you been _listening_ to me?" He tugged at his hair, spinning on his heel before kicking the wall. "This has destroyed my life, destroyed Lily's life, and the only reason yours isn't destroyed is because you're the one person in Ferelden who _wanted_ to devote their entire life to fighting monsters. Nothing good has come from this. Why would you ask me to help you repeat my worst mistake? _How _could you ask me to help you?" He paced, wringing his hands. "Maggie, why would you damn yourself along with me?"

I turned on him, he backed away from me until he was pressed against a wall. "I've been so exhausted I couldn't cast another spell and ended up full of arrows. I've drank so much lyrium I almost stumbled off a bridge in the middle of a fight into a stream of _lava_. I've been so addled I nearly got myself and Alistair killed. _More than once_." I groaned, stepping back from him and pushing my hair out of my face. Leaning against a wall, I sighed. "I've killed innocents. People who were just hoping for gold to feed their starving children. People who were forced into a life of crime because they had no choice. People who were just unlucky enough to be in the wrong place when we passed by. If someone really can be damned to wander the Beyond for eternity I already am, a dozen times over."

Jowan sighed and walked over to me, pulling me against him. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry you're going through this. Please don't ask me to do this, though. How will this make anything better?"

I pushed him off me. "How will it make things better?" Shaking my head I laughed bitterly. "Because as powerful as you might think I am, it's _not enough_. I need more. I need _more_! Did you see all those people with me? For some reason _they_ all follow _me. _When it comes time to do anything they look at me. When a decision needs to be made I'm the one who makes it. I don't know why. I never asked for this. But there they are. And if they're going to trust me that much the least I can do is _keep them alive_. And I'm not strong enough to do that now!"

"And your soul?"

"Is a small price to pay. Especially if it can save all their lives and give me a better chance of ending this damned blight before the whole country is destroyed." I glared at him. "I don't know why I survived when other Wardens didn't. But Grey Wardens are supposed to use any means necessary to fight darkspawn, so since I'm almost all that's left that's what I'll do." I sighed, closing my eyes and picturing the archdemon, my hands pressed to my eyes. "If you knew what I knew, if I could somehow show you what I've seen we wouldn't even be having this argument. And if the Maker really wants to take offense at me trying to end a blight he can go screw himself."

He leaned against the wall opposite me, sliding down into a seated position. "Fine," Jowan said after a moment, sounding miserable. "You win. I won't argue anymore."

"Good," I replied. "Thank you."

He stood up, grabbing my arm, his pale eyes boring into mine. "Don't. It's bad enough I'm condemning you to a life of constant torments from demons and Maker knows what else after. Don't you _dare _thank me for it." I nodded, saying nothing else. Jowan began to talk, for the next hour I stood in the dungeon listening carefully to every word he said.

"Fine," he finally said, after I'd managed to knock a cell door clean off the hinges and boil a rat from the inside-out. "That's all I know. There's more, but I haven't learned it."

I hugged him. "You may not believe me, but you probably saved my life with this."

He shrugged, dark circles under his eyes. "That's one good thing, at least."

"You should get out of here," I said.

Jowan shook his head. "No, I started this mess, I should help."

"Jowan, go!" I demanded. "We're killers. That's _all_ we do, all day every day. We can handle this. You're starved, exhausted, dehydrated, and until recently brutally injured. You _need_ to _go_."

"But—"

"_GO!" _If he went back in I wasn't sure I could find a way to get him away without someone trying to stop me._  
_

He sighed. "Why do I even bother _trying_ to argue with you? Almost twenty years I don't think I've won once." Jowan shook his head, walking back into his cell where he picked up a couple battered sheets of paper. I recognized my handwriting on one of them: the letter I wrote in case I didn't survive my harrowing. He shoved them in a pocket and walked out again.

"Please be careful," I said. "There's a tunnel that way, the doors are all open. It's dark, you'll need a flame spell to get through it. When you get to a ladder climb it, it'll let you out inside the windmill at the top of the cliffs. There shouldn't be anyone watching it from the outside."

"All right," he put his arms around me. "You be careful, too." I nodded, sniffling and wiping my eyes with my sleeve. "You're the only family I ever had that mattered. Love you, Mags."

"Love you too, Jowan," I said, wondering if we would ever see each other again. It seemed unlikely. He blinked a few times and wiped his eyes. After saying goodbye Jowan walked off. I watched until he disappeared around the corner, turning to wave one last time before he did. After I managed to stop crying I shoved my knife back into my belt and left to find the others.

Walking through the basements I passed piles of the undead, left by my friends like a trail of breadcrumbs. Really, really gross breadcrumbs. I grabbed a few small items that looked valuable and shoved them into my pack on the way. Really, they forced Alistair into the Chantry, I had no loyalty to these people. Although the torture of my best friend bothered me, I had to put that aside and not add it to my hatred since, well, he did kind of deserve it.

I finally made it to the courtyard. "About time," Alistair said. "Where is he?"

"Gone," I said.

"Gone?"

"Gone."

"You just… let him go, didn't you?" He shook his head.

"As opposed to?"

"I don't know," Alistair said. "Sending him back to the Circle. Holding him for the templars. Making him come with us so you could at least watch him. He is a _blood mage_."

Morrigan snorted. "Is this Alistair the Grey Warden who speak or Alistair the Templar?"

"Look, you don't have to be a templar to know blood magic is just _wrong_," he said. I used every bit of concentration I possessed to try and keep my expression level. Zevran glanced over at me, eyes widening a fraction. I pretended not to notice. Damned observant rogues. I was lucky Leliana had been looking at Alistair. "But, I suppose it's too late to argue since he's long gone. Hey, maybe he can dump some poison in the village well before leaving!"

I rolled my eyes at him. "Alistair, before Ostagar would _you_ have had any reason to distrust Teyrn Loghain? I can't fault him for believing the word of a national hero."

He sighed. "Let's just drop this, it's a pointless argument. He's gone, we'll just have to trust that you know him best."

I nodded. The knights were walking into the courtyard. I gestured for them to follow and walked up the large front stairs to the palace proper. "What have you done, _amante_?" Zevran asked me, too quietly for the others to hear. Before I could stop him he grabbed my hand, running a finger over the fresh scar and drawing in a breath.

"I'll explain later," I whispered. He just sighed, shaking his head. Pushing worries of his reaction from my mind I shoved open the main doors. Isolde was standing at the front of the room next to a young boy. Bann Teagan was actually doing some sort of jester's dance for them. I groaned, glancing over the scene. "This is not good."

"No," Alistair agreed.

"I believe we have found our possessed mage," Morrigan said, looking at the boy. I nodded sadly.

"Your son is an abomination, my lady," I said, walking into the hall. "You knew this. You lured Teagan here _and you knew_. He slaughtered countless villagers, you protected him all the while, and then brought him _more victims?_" I didn't bother to hide my contempt.

"No!" she shrieked. "It isn't Connor's fault. It's that mage, that monster who poisoned my husband. He did this!"

"One mage can't force possession on another," I sighed, feeling sick as I looked at the boy. I didn't relish the idea of killing a child, especially not now that I was looking at him. He was so bloody _young_.

"Foolish child," Morrigan said, sounding almost pitying. "He has made a deal with a demon of his own free will."

The demon began ranting about his plans to conquer the world. I could almost laugh at that. His 'army' was defeated by seven exhausted adventurers and a village full of fishermen and he thought the world would fall before them? All while trapped in the body of an eight year old child? Were they all so _stupid_? I barely listened as he started questioning who we were and Isolde told him I was a Grey Warden and a woman. The demon made some comment about how she should kill me because I was young and pretty. Yeah, good luck with that.

I took my staff off my back, tensing. This couldn't go on. The demon, probably realizing he was about to be attacked, asked why I was there.

"To stop you," I said flatly. It screamed about me trying to spoil his fun and ran from the room. Before I realized it all the guards as well as Teagan turned on us. "Try and knock them out," I yelled as everyone began fighting back. "They're in thrall, it's not their fault."

Teagan came at me with a sword. I managed to dodge him, slipping under his arm. Fortunately the demon's control wasn't perfect; their reflexes wouldn't match a normal person. Once behind him I raised my staff and cracked it on the back of his head, sending him to the ground. "Sorry," I muttered, turning to another of the guards, going through the same motions.

Once they fell I revived Teagan, glad to see he was in control of his own mind once more.

The arlessa began screaming about how it wasn't her son's fault. I grit my teeth and looked at her. "As far as I care _you're_ the one responsible for everyone dead in this castle and the village thanks to your lies and denials. So please, please, by all that is holy would you _stop bloody talking_. You've done enough damage." She sputtered with indignation but, mercifully, fell silent. With that shrieking gone I could finally string my thoughts together. "Morrigan and I need to speak for a moment," I said. She followed me away from the group.

"The child is an abomination," Morrigan said to me.

"I know," I replied.

"There is only one way," she said.

I winced. "Well..."

Morrigan sighed. "Two mages aren't enough for that ritual," she said. "The idea of killing a child does not appeal to me any more than it does to you but I fail to see what we can do."

Teagan walked over to us, Alistair close behind. "I'm sorry to interrupt," he said. "But from the expressions on your faces I take it the options aren't pleasant."

"No," I said. "I think we'll have to kill him."

"Is there no other way? None at all?" Morrigan and I exchanged a glance. "What is it?" he said, catching our hesitation.

"It _may be_ possible to fight the demon in the fade," I began.

"Why not that? Surely it would be better than simply killing him!"

"'Tis not so simple," Morrigan said. "While we could _in theory_, we lack what is necessary for the ritual. It would require many mages, and a great quantity of lyrium. Neither of which we have."

"You could find them at the Circle," Alistair said. "If they would even help."

"Doubtful," I said. "Standard procedure is to kill abominations on site. I don't think the templars would allow it."

"Circle tower is only a day or two away by boat. It seems to be worth _trying_," Teagan said.

"We do need to see them about the treaty," Alistair said.

"And should the demon slaughter all of you while we sail across the lake?" Morrigan asked. "What then? Demons are not known for their passivity. You may see your nephew when you look at him, but do not be mistaken, he is no child. That is an abomination. A powerful force of evil."

"Fine," I sighed. "We'll split up. Alistair, if I have to go to that damned tower you're going with me." He nodded. "Can you ask Sten, Zevran, and Oghren to come over here? Let Leliana know I want her to come with us."

Alistair walked off. "What is it you don't want him to hear?" Morrigan said.

I offered her a grim smile, not surprised she saw through that so quickly. "Can you to stay here?" I asked her. "You and I are the only ones who really understand the situation."

"Of course," she said. "I have _no_ desire to visit the Circle of Magi, believe me."

"Bringing you there wouldn't exactly be wise, either," I said, visions of Templars turning on her when they realized she was a mage flashing through my mind.. She nodded in agreement as the other three joined us. "All right," I said. "We're splitting up. Alistair and Leliana are going to the Circle with me. Sten, I'd like you to stay here with Morrigan." My fellow mage smiled at that, I had figured she would appreciate it. "Do either of you have a preference?" I asked Zevran and Oghren.

"I'm not getting on any sodding boat if that's what you mean," Oghren said. "I'll stay."

I looked to Zevran, biting my lip. I hoped he would come with me to the Circle but didn't want to demand it. It seemed clear he had already figured out what took me so long in the dungeon, I wasn't entirely sure how he would react once we were alone. I _thought_ he was pragmatic enough to see it was a reasonable decision, but even pragmatic people could get nervous when it came to magic. "If you go off with only those two it will be weeks before we see any of you again. They'll have you rescuing every kitten trapped in a tree between here and Orlais. I'll go to the magical tower as well."

I looked to the others. "If the demon becomes active while we're gone…"

"I understand," Morrigan said, nodding firmly.

"I knew I could count on you," I said, relieved.

"I fail to see why we aren't simply doing that now, but I can wait until we have no other choice," Sten said, nodding.

Oghren sighed. "Got it," he said. "Blasted horrible situation, but there's a lot of people in the village it hasn't managed to kill yet. Better to keep it that way."

I looked at Bann Teagan. "Do you understand?" None of us could quite bring ourselves to say what the plan was out loud, despite being in perfect understanding.

"I do," he said. "I can't argue. I love my nephew, but too many have died already. I pray you return before it comes to that, but if it does I'll make sure Isolde doesn't interfere." I thanked him and he told me where the family's boat could be found.

I insisted on taking a few moments to run through the ground floor, making sure at least that was safe. Just as well, since we had to stop several animated suits of armor that attacked us, as well as more of the possessed. Plus, whenever Alistair turned his back Leliana, Zevran and I filled our packs and pockets with anything of value we saw. In the study I spotted a gold amulet in a desk drawer, hairline cracks covering it despite what looked to be a careful repair. Grinning, I shoved it in my pocket for later. After saying goodbye to everyone staying behind we walked to the boat.

"Thank you," I whispered to Zevran, grateful he was coming with me.

"You only had to ask," he said. I blushed. "You have no intention of telling Alistair and Leliana your plan, I take it?"

"Not until we're too far away for them to do anything about it."

"A wise decision," he said.

* * *

_So this is probably as AU as I've ever gotten. But yeah, no way is Maggie the sort to make a deal with a demon. She is, however, the sort to guilt and bully her best friend if she thinks it's necessary_. _I would also like to think that every Warden who goes to the Circle leaves the non-active party at Redcliffe. That's totally my head-cannon since the alternative is too idiotic for contemplation.  
Jowan was never specific on how they tortured him, but I'd think hands would be a primary target on a mage, given what Sketch says in the Leliana DLC. A good chunk of his dialogue is tweaked from the game (most from the speech he gives if you play a mage and decide to execute him. Which I just can't bring myself to do.)  
I hope everyone actually manages to READ this chapter given how messed up the site has been. Thanks so much to everyone who managed to get logged in and review. (I swear, it took me a dozen tries to log in so I could post this!)  
_


	26. The idea of moving to some filthy forest

We were directed below deck after boarding. The lack of sleep was really beginning to pull at my limbs. I wasn't the only one. Alistair and Leliana each claimed one of the small cabins with barely more than a 'sleep well.'

"So… um, this has been an interesting day so far, don't you think?" I said when we were alone.

Zevran walked into one of the cabins, gesturing for me to follow. I sat on the bed, which all but filled the room, dropping my pack at my feet, and he closed the door once I told Dane to stay in the hall. "Did you really expect I would, what, condemn you for this?" he said, sitting next to me, setting his own pack near mine.

I shrugged. "Maybe? It's not a small thing."

"It isn't," he agreed. "But I'm the last one who would be in any position to pass judgment. You know this."

"Otherwise pragmatic people get funny when it comes to magic. Especially, um… _that type_ of magic. I mean, the chantry says—"

Zevran snorted, cutting me off. "The Chantry says a great many things," he said. "Although his priests may disagree, I highly doubt the Maker would fault anyone who is only trying to end a blight." He leaned against the wall near the foot of the bed, stretching. I tried not to stare at how the muscles in his thighs tensed while he did this. I really did. "Do what you feel you must. I only wonder if this is really something_ you _want_._ You can't even bring yourself to say the words."

I fell back to the pillows. "It's too late now, regardless. I mean, there's no undoing it. Even if I live another thirty years and never use the spells just knowing them makes me a maleficar in the eyes of the Chantry."

"You know that's not what I mean."

"I know that isn't what you mean," I said, sighing. "I don't know if it's me. Maybe? I decided I would do this if the opportunity came up months ago. We really do need the extra help." I stared at the ceiling. "Duncan- that's the man who conscripted me- he said Grey Wardens use any means necessary. He told me their mages have used blood magic in the past. I got the impression he assumed I would learn it eventually."

Zevran shifted so he was laying in the same direction as me and rolled to his side, facing me. "Is this what _you_ want, though? You _want_ to be a maleficar? I know we haven't known each other long, but that just seems… unlike you."

"I _want_ to end the blight," I said. "I want to keep us all alive. I want to be a good Grey Warden. If this can help me with those, then yes, it's what I want." I bit my lip. "I was a pretty lousy apprentice. I had good grades, and I know I'm a powerful mage. But I wouldn't have been trusted to mentor a pot of dirt. I was constantly in trouble, I don't think I went a single day without breaking at least one rule for the last five or six years. I was probably the worst Circle mage ever. In my first day I ended up breaking into the repository, stealing a staff, knocking down a wall, destroying a phylactery, and helping a blood mage escape. Getting conscripted into the Wardens is the only reason I'm even alive now."

"So this is because… what? You think it's expected of you? You think you owe it to this man who conscripted you?"

"Not exactly," I said. "I've never really done _anything_ right. Duncan knew that, too. The First Enchanter tried to convince him what a horrible choice I'd be by showing him my records. It didn't change his mind, though. I don't know what he saw that made him think I'd be a good Grey Warden, or that made him think I could be even more than that. But I want to try and live up to that. I want to do something right at least once in my life. So, if the Grey Wardens say stop at nothing and use any means necessary, that's what I'll do."

"Just yesterday you told me of your fear of possession. I may be mistaken, but I was under the impression that maleficar were more vulnerable to that sort of thing."

"Not more vulnerable," I said. "More tempted. I… I think I can manage, though. I honestly don't even know if I'll have the same problem. Demons usually target mages in the Fade, and the most common reason anyone visits the fade is because they're asleep. But…" I paused, not sure how much I could tell. This seemed minor enough, though, and the entire camp basically knew anyways. "But I don't dream anymore. Not since I became a Grey Warden. I only have visions of darkspawn and the archdemon. I don't know if that will change after the blight, but even if so I know I can resist them."

Zevran's face contorted with sympathy. He sighed. "I can't question your reasons," he said finally. "It all makes sense. I would do the same, were I you, without a moment of hesitation. But it still doesn't feel like _you_. Blood magic… I can't reconcile that with a woman who spares and forgives a man that tried to kill her." He sat up, looking down at me. "You're usually so damned _good_." I smiled, the sentence was spoken with a tone of exaggerated annoyance. He was being sarcastic, but only in part. "Even now… the fastest and _smartest_ decision would have been to end the abomination immediately. That is the rule, yes? Abominations and possessed mages are killed on sight? What will the Circle do but tell us the same thing? And yet here we are. I don't see where blood magic fits in to that."

"I can't see a spell as good or evil," I said. "A spell is like a sword. It can be used to kill darkspawn, to protect people. Or it can be used to, I don't know, rob travelers and hurt people. A weapon isn't good or evil. It just _is_. The morals belong to whoever wields it. A spell is the same way."

"What about mind control?" he said.

"Ugh," I replied. "The very thought…" I smiled at him. "Zev, I may be a mage, but I'm still a Fereldan. If there's one thing we respect here its _freedom_. The idea of taking someone else's away… no. I'll kill someone, but I'll never enslave their mind."

He chuckled. "Ah, this country and its notions of freedom and equality. It's really rather charming. Especially hearing about it from a woman who had none whatsoever until, what, six months ago? Seven?"

"And it made me appreciate it all the more," I said. "You shouldn't make fun. It certainly worked to your benefit!"

"True," he said. "It is an odd feeling, though. Freedom. Exciting, but also…"

"Overwhelming," I provided. "But in a good way. Like… a lifetime worth of plans rushing at you all at once."

"Yes!" he said, falling back again. "I sit and think… after the blight, I could see the world, perhaps spend weeks with the pirates on Llomerynn, move to a cabin in the woods- although that idea didn't last long, I'm far too much a city elf for such nonsense… But, it is merely knowing that I _can_."

"Fantastic, isn't it?" I grinned. "I feel the same way. No cabin in the woods, though. That just sounds too deadly dull for me, even as a passing fancy."

"Oh, it's the ears," he chuckled. "Every few years the idea of moving to some _filthy_ forest crosses my mind. And is very swiftly rejected."

"You know we're going to have to find the Dalish come spring," I said. "We have a treaty promising their help."

"I ran away to find them once," he said. "It… did not live up to my fantasies. My mother was Dalish, I never knew her but all my life I had built up this elaborate idea of what life must be like among the wandering clans." He gave me a rueful grin. "Based, sadly, on a pair of gloves."

"Gloves?"

"Yes," Zevran insisted. "Dalish gloves. _Covered_ in embroidery and utterly gorgeous. They had been my mothers, they were all I had of her, really, since she died giving birth to me." He sighed. "My first victim, as it were." I moved closer, putting my arm around him. "I knew next to nothing about her, just that she was Dalish. And I knew next to nothing about _them_. All my ideas were formed looking at those gloves. Years later, when I heard a clan was passing near Antiva City I ran off to find them. I returned to the city before long. And that ended my adventure with the Dalish." He sighed. "My Crow master took the gloves from me years later, we weren't allowed such personal mementos. And that was that."

"I'm so sorry," I said, horrified they would take the only thing he had from his childhood. "It sounds like living with the Crows was just unending cruelty, it must have been awful."

"It could be worse," he said. "Shall I tell you what happened to the other whorehouse boys who didn't get purchased by the Crows?" He pulled me closer to him. "I know your life hasn't been considerably better. People like us… we're not the end result of happy and contented childhoods."

"I suppose I can't argue with that," I agreed before yawning, unable to stop myself. The Circle wasn't a _happy_ place, but it certainly didn't seem as bad as what he went through. Sure, we were just as likely not to survive our training, but at least we weren't physically tortured for years along the way.

"You need to rest," he said, sitting up. "Now that I say it, it occurs to me that I should do the same." Zevran began to stand up, glancing back at me briefly.

I bit my lip and reached out, grabbing his hand. "Stay?" I asked him. "Um, that is, if you want."

He yanked off his armor without answering and climbed into bed. "Brilliant idea," Zevran said, smiling. "Now I can ravish you as soon as we wake without having to get dressed and walk over here. You have a devious mind." I suppressed my sigh of relief and tossed my robes on the floor before sliding under the blankets. I had been worried he'd say no, or it would become some sort of _thing_, and I really didn't want that. I didn't want to be alone, either, though. Not after the day I'd had and the one I knew was waiting for me across the lake. Feeling his arm tossed across my waist, breath against the back of my shoulder, it wasn't long before I fell soundly asleep.

I could hear two people arguing, a distant faint sound. "She is _sleeping_."

"All afternoon?"

"What? You would like to check her pulse, make sure I didn't poison her?"

"I'm just saying she never sleeps this long. I've known her for longer than you."

"Fine," the first voice said, loud enough now I could make out the accent. Or perhaps I was just drawing closer to actual consciousness. "She fought all night and most of the morning, found the man she thinks of as her brother in a dungeon, and then faced what I suspect would be every mage's greatest nightmare. And now we travel to the one place she would give anything to avoid. By all means, wake her. I'm sure it will be a lovely day. Not at all full of the screams of an upset mage accompanied by the stomping of feet and ice covered fists being waved in our faces. I'm sure you, with the benefit of your long friendship, realize her temper is minimal and not something to concern ourselves with in the least."

"You… you may have a point."

"I thought as much."

"All of you people gossip too much," I muttered, sitting up. "And you're _loud_."

Alistair looked over and gasped, covering his face. "You're _naked!"_

"I'm under a blanket, you can't see a thing." I rolled my eyes as he turned red. "Maker's breath, Alistair. Calm down, my breasts aren't going to jump out and _attack_ or anything."

"This is just wrong," Alistair grumbled, turning his back to us. "Look, I just wanted to tell you we're almost halfway there. They said we have to get out at Kinloch Hold."

"Why not take us right to the tower?" Zevran said.

"No outside boats, I imagine," I said. "Someone could stow away on one and get out of that prison."

"Yes," Alistair said. "Although I wouldn't put it _quite_ that way."

"I see," Zevran said. "Well, all right. Get out."

"Huh?" Alistair said, probably confused by Zevran's sudden dismissal.

"Or stay," Zevran said. "But she is naked and awake, so in a moment I'll be naked, and it seems rather unfair, what with you being fully dressed and all. Unless you wanted to… join us?" As if to demonstrate how serious he was the top of Zevran's armor loudly clattered to the floor. Alistair bolted from the room.

"Oh, that was mean," I said, laughing as Zevran locked the door behind my embarrassed fellow Warden.

"And amusing," Zevran said,

"True," I agreed. I looked over as he unbuckled the rest of his armor. "You have more tattoos!" I exclaimed, seeing the dark swirls and curves covering his body.

"How is it you're only now noticing this?" he said, looking shocked.

"When have I seen you out of your armor in the day? Well, besides this morning, but I was half asleep by then already."

"Yes, but at night it is not _that_ dark. There is the fire, light from that does pass through the tent. And the moon, of course…"

"And I'm a human so I'm pretty much blind at night compared to you."

He raised an eyebrow. "I know there's a difference, but that much?"

I nodded. "When we covered it in one of my early anatomy classes, maybe ten years ago. A few of us went into a room without any windows after, cast a spell wisp, and held up fingers for each other to say how many we could see as the spell faded. I couldn't have seen my _own _hand right in front of my face and the elven apprentices could still answer correctly. I was jealous, it made me wish I was an elf."

"_That_ is a statement I never expected to hear from a human," he said, eyebrow raised.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh yeah, why would want to give up the life of privilege I've known as a _mage_."

"You have a point," Zevran conceded. "We were only told humans couldn't see in the dark as easily, so targeting them at night was wise."

"And yet you attacked me just before lunch…" I mused, giggling.

"The women of this nation _are_ cruel," he sighed, falling back onto the bed. "Fine, mock my poor planning. Question your good fortune. Where would you be if I had found you at night?"

I cast a spell wisp, and summoned a ball of glowing purple energy in one hand, a flame in the other. "If it's too dark I can make my own light," I said. He chuckled and I let the spells fade away, leaving the wisp hovering near the ceiling.

"And that?" he asked, pointing.

"Harmless," I said. "It'll fade, it's something children are taught." I focused, hoping I could still manage the old trick. Another wisp materialized above me, this one shaped, very roughly, like leaf. "I can probably still manage a heart. I used to be able to do birds and butterflies, but it's been years. Not sure if I can anymore."

"Try?" Zevran said, sitting up and looking very amused. I shrugged and closed my eyes, trying to concentrate. I opened them when I heard his laugh. Looking up I saw a small glowing shape that, if you squinted and tilted your head _just_ right, might roughly resemble a crow.

"Yeah," I said. "I used to be better. There's no real use to them. It was just something we did to show off. I knew someone who could do cats. _That_ was impressive."

"No, it's very entertaining," he said, clearly trying not to laugh at me. "You could perform for small children!"

"Oh, I can just _imagine_ the look on the Knight Commander's face if someone suggested sending a mage out to entertain children."

"Ah, the Chantry has no vision," he said. I didn't respond. My casual reference to the Knight-Commander sent my stomach into knots about what waited at the other end of the lake.

He looked at me and sighed. "Stop worrying. What is the worst that could happen?"

"They grab me, haul me off, and swiftly separate my head from my shoulders as punishment for unleashing a maleficar on the Ferelden countryside?"

"Twice now," Zevran laughed. "Although it was the same one each time… I don't know if that should count."

"Maker's breath," I gasped. "Whatever you do _don't_ mention him when we're there. He wasn't in Redcliffe. We never saw him." Shuddering I tried to imagine how they would react. "I'll have to tell Alistair and Leliana."

"You think we don't know this?" He shook his head. "I would be far more worried about your… new skills being discovered. Can they just… _tell_ somehow?"

"No," I said. "Definitely not. They'd have to catch me in the act."

"Well then," he said. "It seems you're getting nervous for nothing. Now, you were asking about my tattoos, yes?"

"Not really asking," I said. "Just admiring. They're nice."

"Nice?" he smirked. "At home, someone seeing these would know me instantly to be a Crow. Here, it is 'they're nice.'" I rolled my eyes at his attempt to imitate both my voice and accent.

"Lots of people have tattoos," I said. "Even in the tower. I was tempted to get one myself, actually."

"This is a strange land," he mused, kicking off the rest of his armor and crawling back under the blankets.

"No it isn't!" I insisted. "This is normal. It's everywhere else that's strange."

"Normally I would have several arguments at the ready for such a statement," he said, "but, you are a naked woman in bed with me and I would prefer for this conversation to end sooner rather than later." He pressed my back against the mattress and shifted on top of me.

"One condition," I said. Zevran raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Never _ever _try and imitate my accent again."

He paused and grinned. "All right, I can agree to that. Same rule applies to you."

"Deal," I said, hooking one of my legs around his waist with a grin.

I had been slowly getting bolder about using magic with him. He didn't seem to have any fear of it whatsoever, to my surprise. It seemed a lot of what I'd been told in the tower didn't exactly pan out as true. Zevran groaned against my throat and said something under his breath as I sent sparks dancing down his side.

"Is that good?" I asked quietly.

"Very good," he said, grabbing me by the hair and kissing me. I managed to squirm out of his grasp, sliding down the bed. Quickly grasping my plan, Zevran made a pleased sound and shifted to his back. He muttered something else in Antivan, winding his hands through my hair as I took him deeper into my mouth. After a few minutes he began to groan and I increased the pressure.

"Stop now," he gasped, trying to pull me up. I attempted to keep going but, well, mages aren't known for their strength. I giggled as he pulled me up by my hair and shoved me to my back. "You do realize," Zevran said, climbing onto me, "that you would only be depriving yourself, yes?"

"You were enjoying yourself," I said.

"And I'll enjoy this," Zevran countered. I could feel him against me, teasing. I tried to shift my hips, pressing my hands against his back. He only grabbed my wrists, circling each with his hands and pinning them to the bed. "Look at you," he chuckled.

"Zevran!" I whined.

He shifted his hips slightly, teasing me further. "I know," Zevran muttered as I groaned. "Very frustrating, I'm sure." I made a face at him. "You do have a lovely pout," he smiled. "Oh fine. The things I do for you."

I sighed happily, hooking my legs around his waist. He was whispering something in my ear, but being in Antivan I couldn't understand a word of it. I suspected it was filthy, though. It sounded filthy, judging by his tone of voice. Zevran kept his hands around my wrists which, while strange at first, turned out to be… sort of fun. It wasn't until I struggled against his grip, my body arching off the bed as I shrieked, that he let go, wrapping his arms around me instead as I fell back, sinking into the mattress. I heard some sort of crash from somewhere on the boat and vaguely wondered if we had caused it.

It wasn't until later, when we had caught our breath, that I realized the banging noise I heard wasn't some sort of… boat noise. Someone was pounding on the wall. "Maker's breath, can you two keep it down?" shouted an angry Orlesian-accented voice.

"Sorry, Leliana," I called.

"It must be very annoying to her," Zevran whispered, arms still wrapped around me. "She was in that Chantry for _two bloody years_."

"Ouch," I said, realizing what he was _actually_ saying. "I think I'd go mad."

"I _know_ I'd go mad," Zevran replied.

After getting dressed we ate a quick meal from the dried rations in our pack. That done, I went to get some air while Zevran organized our various poison making ingredients or, well, whatever it was he did with all those bottles and chemicals.

Sitting cross-legged on the deck near the front of the ship I heard someone approaching from behind. "Something is bothering you." Leliana sat next to me, looking out over the water.

"Maybe," I said. "I don't know. Something feels… wrong. And the closer we get the worse it seems."

"You're just nervous," she said. "Do not worry. You know even if they wish to do something we won't let them."

"I know," I said. "I just… I just thought I'd never have to go back there." She passed me a waterskin and I took a sip, not entirely sure why Leliana was even handing it to me. Once I tasted it I figured out her intent, though. "So… all this time…?" I asked, trying not to laugh.

"No, it's not always wine," she said with a giggle. "Well… often. But not _always._" She stretched her legs out and looked at the water. "So… you and Zevran…?" she said.

"I'm sorry," I groaned. "I didn't think you could hear us through the walls."

Leliana just laughed. "That's not what I mean. Although I am curious about what you did to cause him to make that noise."

I held up a hand, ice coating my fingers. "Sorry, nothing I can teach you."

Her eyes went wide and she gasped, putting a hand over her mouth. "You know… I always wondered if mages ever had spells for, oh, fun."

"Why not?" I shrugged. "But… what were you saying about Zevran?"

"Not Zevran," she said. "_You_ and Zevran. I see what's going on there. You are acting like a schoolgirl! Well… maybe not a schoolgirl. But it is definitely a change from your normal behavior. All giggles and glances and so on. Quite adorable, really." She paused. "Well, when it isn't all screaming and so on like earlier. That is… not so girlish."

"Adorable?" I said, trying not to groan.

"Oh yes," she nodded. "And he is quite the character." I raised my eyebrow, not quite sure what she meant by that. "Oh, you know what I mean. Exciting. He seems to live only for pleasure, but there is more to him, isn't there?"

"It sounds like you've been studying him," I said.

She laughed at me. "Maker's breath, you _are_ a jealous one. He tried to kill us, I thought it would be wise to grant him special scrutiny."

"What?" I said. "I'm not… jealous." She snorted. "I'm _not_. Why would I be? I've never been before."

"Have you ever actually been in a relationship before?" she asked. I started to talk and she cut me off. "And just having sex with someone does not count."

"Um… no? Maybe one." I paused, trying to determine if Brennan and I would have qualified as a relationship. "No, none," I said after a moment's thought.

"None?"

"What?" I said, feeling defensive. "I should have planned to settle down and have a family? I can't even have children, the Chantry would take them away."

"Why?" she gasped, horrified.

"Because I'm a mage," I said, shrugging. "That's how it works. And if the child didn't end up being a mage they would be forced into a life as a priest or templar. Which is really a fun kind of irony, if you think about it. Thankfully barrier spells have many, many uses."

"Oh, that does sound handy," she said, looking lost in thought.

"Yep," I agreed. "So are you still worried Zevran will try to kill us, too?" I said. "Is that what this is about? I get enough of that from Alistair."

Leliana scoffed at that. "He has had opportunity. With you more than anyone, since you're so… close. He hasn't tried, though."

"He hasn't," I agreed. "And he's actually saved me from what would have been, at least, horrible injuries in more than one fight."

"He does seem to fight with one eye on you at all times," she agreed. "But no. What I was going to say is that, since you obviously trust him, I do too. You haven't steered us wrong yet."

"Thank you," I said. "Can you tell Alistair that? He actually thought Zevran did something to me in my sleep earlier today. Their arguing woke me up."

"I have," she sighed. "He's only worried about you. He thinks you're too trusting." She looked away, like there was more. I stared at her. "All right," she said. "He told me you were completely sheltered with no idea how life outside the tower worked. He said just because most mages say whatever they're thinking and do whatever they want you assume the same of everyone."

"That's not true," I said. "It didn't take me long at all to figure out just how repressed everyone else is. No one says what they're thinking, and no one does what they want. I don't just mean sex, either. I mean everything. People are saying one thing, and you can _tell _they don't mean it! I feel like I never know who I can trust. Everyone we met in Orzammar, Isolde, even Teagan wasn't being honest with us. He could have gotten me into the castle a day earlier, and we could have stopped the demon before the attack even happened!" Sighing I tried to calm down, it had been bothering me that I constantly felt like I couldn't trust anyone for months. "Zev has been the one of the only people I've met who says exactly what's on his mind. I mean, think about it. He told us who hired him, why, how, all perfectly clear and straightforward. It's fantastic. I don't have to worry since he doesn't hide a thing."

Leliana moved closer to me. "I'm sorry," she said after a moment. "I shouldn't have lied about my past. I'm sure finding out the people you travel with have done the same thing doesn't help."

I smiled at her, hoping she knew I wasn't offended. In truth, it _did_ bother me that she never told me the truth, and I probably still wouldn't know if I hadn't asked. But, on an intellectual level I could understand why. "No, I understand why you hid it. And I haven't been any better. I only told Alistair and Morrigan what happened at the tower. I suppose the outside world is rubbing off on me."

"I understand telling Alistair. He is your fellow Warden. The two of you have many secrets the rest of us can't share. But you told that woman and not me!" I had suspected Leliana was less fond of Morrigan than she let on, this would apparently be confirmation.

"She's a mage," I said. "I thought she would understand. This is before we were even to Lothering."

"You _thought _she would understand?"

"She lectured me for even longer than Alistair did. Different subject matter, though. 'Blood magic is the refuge of the weak,' 'this is why most men are not to be trusted,' 'your belief in people's honesty will be the death of you,' that sort of thing."

"I wonder what her thoughts are on Zevran…" Leliana mused.

"She told me to have fun but keep my guard up." Of course, she had also said it was sickening to watch us, but I didn't need to repeat that.

"Very pragmatic," Leliana said. "I'm not surprised. She told _me_ that watching the two of you make eyes at each other all day long made her feel ill."

"Yeah, I got a bit of that, too. We don't _make eyes_ at each other, though. I mean, I admit, I might… glance at him from time to time. But look at him! How could I not?"

"Of course," she only laughed. Leliana left to find something to eat not long after. I stayed on the deck as it grew dark, watching the tower against the cloudy and biting my lip. Part of me wanted to scream and run, as fast as I could, in the opposite direction. Leliana was probably right, it was just nerves. That didn't make me feel any better, though.

"If you stop looking at it you'll probably feel much better."

I turned around and saw Zevran approaching, picking his way around the various ropes and other… boat things littering the deck. "Probably," I agreed.

"The others have gone to bed," he said. I'd slept most of the day, and wasn't particularly exhausted, but the idea of sleep didn't sound entirely unwanted. It was rare to actually get any in a real bed, for one thing, or without giving up several hours to taking a watch. He held out a hand, I took it and let him yank me to my feet. I stumbled a few times on our walk back towards the door, not able to see the items scattered across the deck. "You were not kidding about being blind after dark," Zevran said, wrapping an arm around my waist. I couldn't help it, even the moon was all but hidden by the clouds. "Rope there," he added. With his help I made it inside without cracking my head open.

I was relieved to see Zevran followed me into my cabin. Shutting the door behind him, he pulled off his armor and climbed into bed beside me. Pressed against him, I listened to the regular sound of his breathing, worries about reaching Kinlock Hold by the morning and the tower not long after keeping me from rest.

* * *

_It's never addressed in the game, but the first book goes into a lot of detail about how elves can see better at night than humans (Hence Loghain's scout unit being almost entirely elves)._  
_Some game dialogue, here and there, but most moved around and tweaked heavily. _

_And, if you don't follow AOA as well, I can share new art! Seriously, my readers spoil me. :) You'll need to remove the spaces to see everything (or go to my profile where I have them linked): _  
_Phoenix and Ashes did this fantastic pic of Maggie in a scene from chapter 22 looking her... classy best. ;) ** http :/ phoenixandashes. deviantart .com /#/ d2zlm2y**_  
_Galagraphia did this awesomely EPIC picture of Anders and Maggie from AOA. **http :/ galagraphia. deviantart. com/ #/ d2zlyda **_

_Thanks so much to everyone who reads and reviews!_


	27. The arrogance we all knew and loved

Standing on the shore of Kinloch Hold my stomach clenched as I looked at the tower. My feeling of unease hadn't gotten any better. It was, if anything, much much worse.

Well, nothing to do now.

"Come on," I said, leading everyone to the dock. "Remember, we didn't see anyone in the dungeon at Redcliffe, and if they try to separate me from the group I need you to attack."

"Understood," Zevran said.

"I think you're really exaggerating the danger," Alistair said.

"Alistair, I released a _blood mage_. What do you think they would have done? They can't touch me as a Warden, sure. But as someone accused of treason and regicide? I suspect that would be just the excuse that the Knight-Commander would need."

"Fine," he said. I led everyone down the dock. The normal boatman was gone, replace by… ugh, Carroll.

"We need to get across," I said to him.

"Nope," he replied. "No one can go across. Orders of Greagoir. He's the boss, you know."

I groaned. He was as dumb as a box of hair, and I suspected he might be a bit lyrium addled now that I was close enough to see his eyes. "Look," I muttered. "The Grey Wardens have business with the First Enchanter. So… come on. Boat time."

"Grey Wardens?" he said. "Prove it!"

Sighing I resisted the urge to push him into the water. "Carroll, you _saw me_ leaving with the Commander of the Grey. You were _there_. Remember?"

"How do I know you didn't just run off when you hit the shore?" he countered. "So, come on, let's see some Grey Wardening."

"Are you carrying a darkspawn in your pocket?" I asked. "I can't _summon_ them. And do you really _want_ me to?" Sighing, I dug through my pack. "Here, we have these documents."

"Oh yeah, well, I have a paper that says I'm queen of Antiva."

I smirked. "Queen, huh? I always suspected you didn't have a di—"

"Maggie!" Alistair cut me off as Zevran laughed. He looked over at Carroll. "Listen, it's really important we get across. The life of a little boy depends on it."

Carroll looked at him. "Do I know you?"

"Alistair," he said. "We were in the Chantry together. I was conscripted into the Grey Wardens instead of taking vows."

"Oh yeah," he said. "Wow. You found the one job worse than being a templar, _and_ you're stuck with her? I almost feel bad."

"So you'll take us across?"

"I said _almost_. I can't, Greagoir will be mad at me."

"He'll be mad at you when he finds out you were giving the last surviving Grey Wardens such a hard time," I pointed out, not believing a word of it but hoping Carroll would.

Success. "You think so? Oh… that would be… bad. Well, yeah. We should go, I don't want him to get mad. His yell is pretty scary."

"It is," I agreed. "And when he makes a fist and pounds it into his hand?"

"I hate when he does that," Carroll said. "We should go right now. Are you ready?" The four of us plus dog piled into the small boat and he began to row us across.

I tried to take measured breaths as we drew closer, closing my eyes. I felt someone grab my hand and looked over to see Zevran looking at me with concern. "It will be _fine_," he whispered. "We go in, have a quick chat with the First Enchanter, and leave."

I nodded.

Of course, he was wrong.

I could see something was wrong the moment we entered the front hall. The large doors leading to the apprentice dorms were barred, templars standing outside them with weapons in hand. The Knight-Commander was ordering people around.

I didn't see a single mage.

"This can't be good," I muttered. Nothing to be done, though. We came all this way and I had to at least talk to someone. I waited for the Knight-Commander to stop speaking to his men and acknowledge me. With a sigh Greagoir covered his eyes, a gesture that spoke of carefully concealed exhaustion, and turned to me.

"Oh _good_," he said, looking at me. "Look who's back, our own _proud_ Grey Warden. Glad you're not dead."

"Why thanks," I said, not missing the sarcasm in his voice. "I can _almost_ believe you mean that."

"Can you?" he said, sounding as though he didn't care. "If you don't mind, we're quite obviously dealing with something that has nothing to do with you, no longer being a mage of the Circle."

"Since the mages of the Circle have a treaty with the Grey Wardens to provide aid against the blight it _does_ involve me," I said.

He groaned. "Oh _fantastic_. Now you start to take something seriously. I grow _very_ weary of the Grey Warden's constant need for men to fight the darkspawn, but I won't deny that it is your right. Unfortunately you'll find no allies here."

I stared at him. "This treaty supersedes the Chantry, you can't say that."

He sighed. "That is not what I mean. I'll be frank. The tower is no longer under our control. Abominations and demons run through the halls. We have become too complacent. First Jowan, now this. And don't think I've forgotten your role in his escape."

"Knight-Commander," Alistair spoke up, "since she's a Grey Warden now—"

"I am _aware_ of that," he said quickly, giving Alistair an annoyed glance. "My respect for the laws protecting the Grey Wardens is the only reason we're speaking here instead of through the bars of a cell!" Well, that was something at least.

I sighed. "Just tell me what happened. Where is the First Enchanter? The other mages?"

"Don't you understand," he snapped. "The Circle is _lost_. The tower has fallen. We are only trying to hold back the demons until the reinforcements we need for the Rite of Annulment arrive."

I gasped. "You're going to _kill everyone?"_

"No one is left alive in there!" he said, sounding miserable. "We saw demons cutting down everyone in their paths, templar and mage alike. We had to retreat. Nothing could have survived that."

"You _retreated_?" I said, horrified. "All my life I've been told the templars are here to protect us, and I don't see a _single damned mage_ you managed to protect. You left them to die!"

"What could I do? One demon, two, we could handle. Dozens? The tower isn't staffed by an army. I have men of my own still locked in there!"

"He's probably right," Alistair said quietly, resting a hand on my shoulder. "The mages couldn't survive that. The Rite of Annulment will keep the abominations that remain from escaping."

"No!" I snapped. "I can't believe that, I won't." I looked back at him. "You and I have cut through _hundreds_ of darkspawn at once, alone. You've seen what I can do. There are mages inside far more experienced than me. I can't believe they would lay down and die. They're not helpless!"

"If anyone remains alive it's because the Maker Himself shielded them," the Knight-Commander said. "No one could have survived those monstrous creatures. To hope for survivors and find none is too painful."

"You're the one who locked them in!" I covered my face and sighed. "Look, let us in. If I'm right we can save anyone who remains. If not… well, at least the abominations will be dead."

"An abomination is a force to be reckoned with," he said. "There is more than one within."

"You think I've spent the last seven months playing cards?" I asked him. "All I ask is that if… if the mages are all dead, I want your help against the blight. Templars. I have _no doubt_ that we can defeat anything we find inside."

"Ah, and there's the arrogance we all knew and loved," he said. "So nice to see it hasn't disappeared. It still hangs around you like a fell cloud."

"It's not arrogance if I'm right," I snapped. "Just give me your word and open the damn door. The longer we argue the more chance there is for the people _you locked in_ to die."

"Fine," he said. "If you succeed and I am right I will pledge the templars to your cause, as there would be no reason for us to guard an empty tower."

"And if _I'm_ right?"

"I'll believe it is true when I hear it from the First Enchanter," he said. "If anyone lives it would be Irving."

"Fine," I said.

"May Andraste lend you her courage," he said, actually sounding sincere.

I sighed. "Ready?" I asked everyone.

Leliana nodded forcefully. "Leaving them within… I would not do such a thing to an _animal_. This is too cruel, we must try to help." She punctuated that by giving the Knight-Commander a withering glance. Dane barked in agreement.

"Good boy," I said, scratching behind his ears. Walking over to the doors, I nodded to the guard, signaling for him to open them. I shuddered hearing them slam closed behind us.

"Oh Maker," Alistair muttered. That was basically the long and short of it. I could see bodies scattered across the floor. Taking a breath I walked further ahead, being careful not to step on anyone, and walked through the first dorm. It was completely empty, at least of anything alive, as was the second. As were all the others we came across. When we reached what had been my room I paused at my old bed.

"This was mine," I said, opening the trunk. Not surprisingly, it was empty. I grabbed my knife from my belt and pried up the bottom, removing the small items I'd hidden there that hadn't been discovered.

"A false bottom?" Zevran said, sounding impressed.

"Jowan did it for me," I said. "I guess they never noticed when they tossed my stuff out." It wasn't much. A flask, a few notes and letters from people, a necklace someone had given me, things like that. But they were mine. I shoved them in my pack and glanced around the room once more.

"All right," I said. Moving on to the next room I repeated the procedure at Jowan's trunk. His contained a small enchanted ring, faded old sketch of a couple holding a baby, a book about blood magic, and several letters Lily had written to him. I didn't read them. Tucking everything into my pack I told myself it was a sign I would meet him again, so I could pass that along.

"Strange," I said.

"That's _one_ word for it," Alistair replied.

"No… I mean… strange. Where are the demons? The abominations? We haven't seen a thing. I can't sense anything, either. We should both feel the veil being damaged."

"You're right," he said after a moment. "It is strange."

Moving on, we were passing the rooms occupied by the younger apprentices. I choked back a sob seeing the tiny bodies littering the hall. Leliana was looking around, tears rolling down her cheeks. A templar was burnt to a crisp in one room, somehow sickeningly attached to the door of a closet. Walking past it I heard a faint noise.

"You heard it too?" Alistair whispered. I nodded.

"I can't imagine a demon or abomination hiding in a closet," Zevran said softly. Leliana nodded in agreement.

"It may be a survivor," she said.

Alistair helped me remove the templar's body, I noticed the noise from inside had ceased. I opened the door slowly, looking at two damp eyes that peered from between the hanging robes, the tiny hands that had been covering her nose and mouth fell when she saw me. "Is it over?" the little girl asked, looking up at me.

Glancing at Zevran I darted my eyes to the templar's body. He grabbed a blanket form one of the beds and swiftly covered him. "It will be very soon," I said.

"Ser Roget told me to stay in here until it was over," she said. "Where did he go? He told me I could have a cookie when it was over if I stayed quiet. I was _very_ quiet."

I tried to keep my face level. "He's… resting," I lied. "He told us we should bring you somewhere safer."

"All right," she said. I was glad I'd worn my Circle robes that day. Any child here would recognize them and listen to someone wearing yellow or red.

"Carry her," I whispered to Alistair. "Try and make sure she can't see."

"The floors are very dirty," Alistair said, bending over so he was at her eye level. "I'll carry you so your pretty robes don't get anything on them." The tiny girl nodded, smiling at Alistair. He had one of those faces people just wanted to trust, I suppose.

"If there are others," I said, "they'll be in the lower hall, up ahead. I'm sure of it." It was a highly defensible location, with just one small door leading into the library. A group of mages holed up there could be keeping the demons from passing any further, which would explain why we hadn't seen any.

"And if no one is there?" Zevran asked. "We cannot bring a child with us."

"I know!" I said. "If not… we find another closet. Or downstairs, near the repository. The door is warded, I don't think a demon's magic would work there, either. Or we bring her back to the front. I'm sure the templars would let us pass one child out to them." A child, after all, wouldn't be savvy enough to hide possession.

He nodded. The two of us walked in the front, Leliana walking behind with Alistair, trying to keep a constant stream of chatter going so the girl didn't look around. Zevran silently passed me a clean rag from the pocket of his armor. I wiped my cheeks and eyes and handed it back to him. After replacing it in his pocket he briefly squeezed my hand.

The last few rooms yielded no further survivors. Reaching the main hall, I sagged with relief seeing a handful of mages and children. "Thank the Maker," I muttered. Alistair set the girl down, she immediately ran off to join several other children in the corner.

"Margaret?" I looked up, Senior Enchanter Wynne was standing near the door to the library, a magical barrier shimmering behind her. Ah, so that was how they were keeping the halls clear. "You've returned? But why did they let you through? Are you here to warn us?"

"They want to annul the circle," I said, figuring it wasn't the time to mince words. "I demanded they let us at least try to find any survivors."

"They have it, then?" she said, horrified.

"Not yet, they've sent for it but still need reinforcements from Denerim."

She sagged against a wall, her hand to her head. "So they've abandoned us to our fate."

"Some time ago," I said. "I've seen one apprentice since entering the tower before we came across you." I gestured to the girl. "They saved _no one_."

"No one?" Wynne paled with horror. "Where was…?"

"In a closet," I said. "Ser Roget locked her in and blocked it with his body. He was…" I made a face. "Well, we made sure she didn't see what became of him." She nodded, her face grim. "What _happened_?"

"We had… well, something of a revolt on our hands. Uldred's doing. He tried to take over after returning from Ostagar. It didn't work out as he planned, as you can see." I felt like my heart stopped briefly. _This_ was his plan? _This_ was what Brennan had wanted me to join? _This_ is what I would have been party to. Oh Maker… And he could be somewhere in the tower still. I sucked in a breath. Brennan may have had his flaws, but he was no monster. He would never have been a party to something like this if he knew the goal was so much death. Something must have gone horribly wrong.

Wynne was telling me we could only enter if she dropped the barrier and accompanied us. I nodded, not really listening. "We have to avoid needless slaughter," I said. If Brennan was involved I suspected quite a few others were who would have been just as horrified if they were told this would be the outcome from the beginning. Probably… probably almost everyone I was friends with, to be completely honest.

I stepped back, trying to brace myself. Kinnon, an apprentice who had been friends with Jowan walked over. "We heard about Ostagar," he said. "I'm glad to see you made it out."

"It was a near thing," I admitted.

"I never would have imagined the Teyrn a traitor… but Wynne told us she saw it with her own eyes. The signal was lit and he marched his men the other way."

"Alistair and I were the ones who lit the signal," I said. He shook his head, looking horrified.

"You're really going in there?" I nodded. "Be careful."

"Thanks," I told him. "I will."

He leaned over, dropping his voice. "Have you heard anything about…?" I had been expecting him to ask.

"Just a few days ago," I whispered. "He was safe, last I knew."

Kinnon smiled, looking relived. "Good. I know what they say about… that, but I don't care. We both know he's not a bad person, never could be." I nodded in agreement.

He gave me a hug and wished me luck as Petra, a mage I had known from some of my classes walked over. She told me how Wynne had jumped between her and a demon, saving her life but collapsing in the process. "She must have been only stunned," I said.

Petra nodded. "I hope so. Just, look out for her. She may have been hurt more than she let on." I nodded and she, too, embraced me before wishing me luck.

"I'm ready," I said, walking over to Wynne.

"I will be relieved not to hold this barrier up any longer," Wynne admitted. "It was starting to become quite tiring."

I nodded, I couldn't blame her. "Will Petra or Kinnon replace it?"

She looked at me and dropped her voice. "Together, _perhaps_, they could do so… but it would take all their combined power. I suspect you could, but it was trying for me and I'm far older than you are."

"Well, we'll just have to make sure we don't let anything past us to get this far," I said.

Wynne nodded before raising her hand, dispelling the magic. "A wise plan."

Walking into the library, I kept my staff in hand, realizing the easy time we'd had so far was over. The room, normally so neat and orderly, was chaos. Books were piled everywhere, shelves overturned, bodies amidst everything. I glanced at each of them, hoping one might still show a sign of life, hoping I didn't recognize them.

My scalp began to tingle as I felt the veil distort around us. Within seconds three demons materialized around us. "Good," I muttered, seeing that they were rage demons. I began to call down as much ice as I could. They fell quickly.

"_Good?" _Zevran said once the fight was done. "What was _good_ about that?"

"Rage demons. Good. They aren't as powerful as desire or pride demons. And they're far more susceptible to ice spells, which happen to be my specialty."

"Ah," he said. "Well, that _is_ good."

"See?"

There were more dead everywhere I looked. We continued to come up against both demons and abominations as we moved through both floors of the extensive libraries. The abominations were so much worse, though. A demon was a demon, they had always been that way. The abominations used to be mages, though. Every time we took one down I wondered who it had been. There was no saving someone once they actually became an abomination, I knew that. Connor was merely possessed. He retained his own form. That was the only reason he had a chance. Although really, as we moved through the tower it seemed like his chance was quite slim. There simply weren't enough mages alive anymore to perform the ceremony.

I choked back a sob seeing two people I had been friends with for years. Whatever happened, they hadn't even gone down fighting. They were clutching each other, faces buried against their shoulders. Neither could have cast a spell in that position. It made no sense… unless they simply couldn't fight any longer. That seemed so much more horrifying. "Friends of yours?" Leliana asked. I nodded mutely and she put her arm around my shoulder, gently leading me away. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"They won't be the last," I said, sighing. I blinked several times, wiping my eyes, and took a breath. If I fell apart I would die. There was no question about it. "I'm fine," I said. "We need to keep moving."

She began to say something else and I saw Zevran cut her off with a gesture. I pushed forward into the next room.

Here was the spot I went on my date with Davy. There was the table Brennan and I sat at the day before I left. Not far from it was the table where Bridget, Jowan, and I would play cards. Everywhere I looked I saw more destruction, more corpses.

I heard Wynne make a noise, followed by what sounded like a prayer. Walking over to her I saw a templar and mage standing together, cut nearly in half and slumped forward against the wall. They were in a corner, arm in arm and actually facing the wall. They died with their backs to the attacker? I looked closer. "Oh Maker," I gasped. Between them and the wall were three children. Or rather, the bodies of three children. I turned my head away from the scene, understanding instantly. "We need to keep moving," I said, more for myself than anyone else.

"Yes," Wynne agreed.

We had reached the stairs that would lead to the mages' quarters. If there were survivors I hoped we would find them there. Hidden in their rooms, perhaps, or in the smaller library for leisure reading. Of course, that also meant we would be up against more abominations and demons. "How is everyone?" I asked, looking over the group. Dane whimpered and I knelt down. "Show me where," I said. He raised his head, revealing a burn on his fur from a demon. "Poor boy. You should have let me know sooner!" I said, already digging through my pack.

"Please, let me," Wynne said. She raised a hand to my dog and blue light surrounded her fingertips. Within seconds the burn was gone, leaving healed skin under slightly charred fur. He yipped happily. She was a healer, I reminded myself.

"You're a _very_ brave dog," I said, handing him a treat from my bag. He licked my face in thanks.

"What about me?" Zevran asked, grinning.

"You want a mabari treat?" I said, chuckling.

"Perhaps I just wanted to lick your face." I actually laughed at that, despite the chaos surrounding us.

Wynne gave us a disapproving glance and began heading up the stairs. Leliana and Alistair followed. "I lied," Zevran said as we followed behind them. "I have no interest in licking your face immediately after your dog has done the same."

"You don't say," I told him.

"Yes, sad but true. Actually, licking your _face_ is not something I have much interest in at all. Perhaps elsewhere…" I giggled, blushing, and tried to ignore the annoyed grunt from Wynne. He put a hand on my back. "I only suspect this will get worse before it gets better and wanted to take your mind from it for a moment. You cannot mourn, not yet." I nodded. If I stopped to cry over every tragedy we would all end up becoming another one. He was right, I would get us all killed.

We passed the stockroom and as I glanced over I gasped. The tranquil man who worked in it was standing there, trying in vain to clean. Stopping to speak with him we learned that Niall had rushed in not long ago, retrieving the Litany of Adralla. "Blood magic," Wynne gasped, sounding disgusted and horrified. "I should have known!"

Was Brennan a _blood mage?_ I had no idea. Was _everyone_ I knew secretly a maleficar? How did that happen? Was I _that_ blind? Did they all get together and learn without me?

Of course, I couldn't help but realize I was the same thing by now.

This was getting better and better. Really.

"We can handle it," I said, hoping I was right. "We have no choice."

"Blood magic," Alistair said, sounding disgusted. He glanced at me as if to say 'see! see!' I gestured for him to keep his mouth shut. Wynne certainly didn't need to know about Jowan.

Entering the library, I heard two men's voice and held my hand up for everyone to stop. _"What are we doing? Have you thought about it?" _

_"We're supposed to be making sure no one disrupts Uldred's plan!"_

_"This wasn't the plan he told me! It wasn't supposed to go this far!"_

_"I know that! He isn't even Uldred anymore, he's—"_

_"Will you two be quiet," _came a third voice, this one a woman. _"I hear something_."

I needed to work on my sneaking abilities, that was very clear as a lightning bolt narrowly missed me. We charged forward, attacking. I could barely see through the red mist. It felt like my brain was on fire. It felt like… "No!" I screamed, casting an ice spell and swinging blindly with my staff. Feeling it connect with something that shattered the pressure in my mind immediately eased. "Try that on me, will you," I muttered, looking around. The last mage standing had his back to me, only a couple feet away. He had Alistair against a wall. I cast a lightning bolt and he crumpled to his back. "Status?" I asked, glancing at everyone. There was a chorus of voices reporting no injuries. "Good," I said, replacing my staff.

"M…Maggie?" came a voice near my feet. I looked down, the last mage wasn't dead. Close to dead, but not quite.

"Brennan?" I gasped, dropping to my knees. I grabbed his shoulders, pulling him onto my lap so he was sitting up. "Oh Maker, Brennan… I didn't know it was you!"

He sighed, blood on his lips. "Didn't give you much choice. Sorry."

"You didn't know," I said, brushing his hair from his face. "It's fine. Wynne can heal you. Right, Wynne?"

"Margaret," she said slowly, "he's a maleficar. The templars will only execute him... and it will probably be after an _interrogation_. You _know_ this. You know what they do to mages they interrogate. This... may be kinder."

"No!" I insisted. "No, just heal him. We don't have to let them know. He can stay with us. It'll be fine."

"She's right, Maggie," Brennan said before coughing.

"No, you'll be fine. I promise." I glared at Wynne. She glanced over my shoulder to Alistair. "Don't look at him," I shouted. "Brennan's the one who needs help, look over here! Just heal! You're a healer, that's what you _do_, isn't it? We can worry about the rest later!"

Brennan was mumbling something, I could barely understand him. I managed to make out the words "ice queen," something about being the death of him, and, after another coughing fit, sending his blood spraying across my face, a word that might have possibly been "love." And then he was gone.

"No!" I screamed, shaking him. "Wake up!"

"Maggie, he's gone," Alistair said, trying to pull me to my feet. I shook him off, looking back at Brennan's face, wiping the blood from it with my sleeve. One of my oldest friends, the first boy to kiss me, the first person to call me beautiful, we'd even lost our virginity together… and here he was, dead on my lap. And I killed him.

So, of course, I decided that was the _perfect_ moment to completely break down. It only seemed reasonable. Sobbing, I buried my face in my hands and screamed. Wynne tried to say something to me, putting her hand on my shoulder. I glared at her.

"Don't you touch me," I snapped. "You stood there and watched him die. You just stood there." Leliana led her away. I could hear Zevran and Alistair whispering, but couldn't make out their words.

Zevran knelt next to me. "We need to keep moving," he said quietly. "I _promise_ you will have all the time you need later, but it cannot be here, in this place. You _know_ this."

Alistair was on the other side of me. "Come on, Mags. He wouldn't want you to get cut in half by some demon because you were sitting on the floor crying."

I sniffed, wiping my face. "You're both right. I'm sorry."

"You don't have anything to apologize for," Alistair said as the two of them helped me up. "Falling apart at the worst moment is a new Grey Warden tradition. I'm glad to see you're on board."

After I bent over to close Brennan's eyes and fold his hands on his chest, which seemed to be the absolute least I could do after… after _killing him_, I leaned on my staff. I suddenly felt very, very tired.

Leliana called me over to where she was standing with Wynne. An apprentice, probably five years younger than me, was laying on the floor looking up at us. "Please, please don't kill me," she begged. "We never… we never wanted this to happen. All this death, the demons. That wasn't what Uldred told us! We only wanted to be free." She looked directly at me. "You know what it was like. The templars, always watching."

"I do," I said. "It was horrible."

"We only wanted to be free. Everyone else is free. Why not us? Why are we condemned to prison simply for existing?" Wynne, not surprisingly, began to argue.

"Fine," I said finally.

"What?" the girl looked back to me and Wynne fell silent.

"I won't kill you. I need mages to help us fight the blight. When the call goes out to aid the Grey Wardens I want to see you there."

"But I'm a—"

"Maleficar?" I supplied. "Yes, I managed to figure that much out. It means you'll be that much better at killing darkspawn. My concerns begin and end there." Wynne began to protest and I snapped my neck to glare at her. I might have actually growled. Looking back at the girl I went on. "Go to the lower hall. Tell them you're a survivor and we directed you there. Say nothing else."

She nodded, thanking me and saying something about the Maker smiling on me for my mercy, before running out of the room.

"We need to keep moving," I reminded everyone as they stood, staring at me in shock. "Let's go. Perhaps I can kill a few more of my lifelong friends before this day is done."

* * *

_So I normally try to avoid writing about the major quests in any detail and focus on the moments between instead since, well, we've all played the game. But... it really seemed to me like the Circle quest was terribly broken. The only time it even acknowledges if you're a mage is a line or two from Greagoir and a couple more from Cullen. And I decided I had to fix that... which makes for some horridly depressing reading. One of those chapters where I cross the line from gallows humor to just, well, gallows._

_Thanks so much to my reviewers. Knowing people actually read all this keeps me inspired!_


	28. That hardly seems fair

I paused on the way out of the library, after slipping a few scrolls of interest into my bag when Wynne's back was turned. Returning to Brennan's body I bent over and removed the enchanted rings and amulet he wore, immediately putting them on.

"They'll only throw them away," I said. No one argued.

The first few rooms were empty. I went into the room that had been Brennan's and dug through his trunk. Retrieving a pile of paper, I shoved them in my pack and moved on. "What is that?" Alistair asked.

"I didn't write them for the entertainment of the templars. So, I'm taking them back. I don't think he'll have much use for them anymore."

My room was only a couple doors down. Granted, it was a couple doors, a rage demon, and several abominations down now, but that was becoming normal. Kicking the closet open once the room was clear I grinned. "Take everything," I said, moving onto the trunk. "I can't believe my stuff is still here."

I heard a noise just as we were leaving. Walking to what would have been my roommate's closet I knocked. "Come out," I called.

"Is… is it safe?"

"It's safe," I said.

The door opened and Godwin, the tower smuggler, stepped out. "Hey!" he said. "Maggie! Didn't expect to see you out here. Well… I did expect to see you, since we were going to be neighbors. But then you left. And now you're back." He looked around. "Maker… those demons didn't know what hit them! You did all this?"

"We did," I said. "Are you all right?"

"I've got a crick in my neck and my bum's gone numb. But I can't complain, all things considered." He looked around again. "You turned them into a paste," he said. "An actual paste. How is that even done? I didn't think that was _possible_. It's bloody disgusting."

I shrugged, grinning. "What can I say, I'm very good."

"I'll say," he replied. "I could kiss you." Grinning, he added "hey, can I kiss you?" I tried to vaguely remember if he and I had ever… right, the afternoon we were bored and entropy class had been canceled. Thought so.

"Definitely not the time _or _place, Godwin," I said.

"Well, I'll settle for a nice handshake before getting back into my closet."

"You can go downstairs. Everyone else is in the lower hall."

"No, no, I think I'll stay here. In my closet. Where it's safe. And my things are."

"Got it," I said, understanding. He didn't want to leave his _inventory_ unguarded with the tower as it was. Not that he was risking his life for property, more that he was risking his life to make sure the templars didn't kill him later when they found the lyrium he always had on hand.

"Oh, wait… I got something for you when I was in Orzammar. A friend asked me to pass it along." A dwarf in dust town had asked if we could help negotiate a sale of lyrium to someone in the tower. Since I knew who the someone was, and that we'd get our investment back, and whatever extra I could wheedle out of him, it seemed a good plan.

"You did?" He looked confused briefly before nodding. "Ohhhh… right! Yes. My friend in _Orzammar_. Wow, with all the demons and abominations and so on I'll forget my own head next. I believe I should give you something in exchange, yes?" He dug through his pockets and displayed five very large ten-sovereign pieces, hand low so no one else could see it.

"Godwin," I gasped. "Do you know how _difficult_ the trip from Orzammar to the Circle is? And the entire city was in chaos, we had to settle the very throne before our business could even be seen to… Not to mention our long years of friendship." I put my hand on his arm and pouted.

He sighed. "You're too good at this business." Grabbing a couple more coins from his pocket and a dagger from his belt he shrugged. "All I've got."

"You're such a sweetheart," I said, grinning. "I've always said that, you know."

"If I had children they'd be starving to death." He smiled after peeking in the box I handed him, though. "But I don't, so who cares! If you ever move back we should work together. You're better at this sort of thing than I expected." Tucking the lyrium inside his robes he grabbed my hand. "May we meet again in happier, less life-threatening times," Godwin said before returning to the closet.

"Corrupt bastard," I snickered to myself as we left. "That," I whispered to Zevran, "was our friendly neighborhood smuggler and illicit lyrium dealer. Don't tell Wynne. Pretty sure he just doesn't want to leave the stock unattended. Totally forgot we were going to be neighbors."

"And you…?"

I laughed. "Ah, don't you know your Chant? Love thy neighbor!"

"That is _the_ most blasphemous joke I have ever heard," Alistair said.

"And you're eavesdropping," I replied.

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "Really? _Him_? Don't you have, I don't know, standards?"

"Sure I do." I shrugged. "He's normally a great deal of fun. We didn't exactly catch him on his best day. And did you see, we just made close to sixty sovereign on that. And a new dagger."

"Wait… we're _smuggling_ now?"

I waved my hand. "Shhhh! You want Wynne to hear? She'll get the Tempars on poor Godwin so fast he won't know what happened! And it's only _lyrium, _for Andraste's sake." Dane barked in agreement.

"Ugh. Fine." Alistair shook his head.

My smile fell as we walked into the next room, finding ourselves quickly assaulted by demons. Once they were down I glanced around quickly and recognized the quilt on one of the beds. Walking closer I saw a pale leg sticking out from behind.

"Oh no," I gasped, closing the rest of the distance before trying to pull the bed away from the wall. Without asking what I was doing, Alistair gently moved me aside and shifted the heavy piece of furniture for me. Scrambling over the mattress I looked over the edge. Bridget was lying on the floor, robes covered in blood. She must have hid between her bed and the wall. Barely able to keep myself from breaking into sobs I looked closer, she was clutching a piece of paper in one waxy hand. I gently removed it from her stiff fingers. A shift of her arm sent a knife tumbling out of her hands. "Oh Maker, no," I gasped, now seeing the other side of her arm as her body shifted.

I fell back on the mattress, wiping my cheeks with my sleeves. "Damn you, Bridget. Why?"

"Bridget?" Wynne said, pushing her way past Leliana and Zevran. Within seconds she was next to me, looking over the edge of the bed. "Oh, how could she?" She sounded as close to tears as me.

I finally looked at the paper she had been holding.

_It wasn't supposed to happen like this.  
We only wanted to be free.  
I never wanted to hurt anyone.  
I'm so sorry.  
Maker forgive me_

I held it in my fist, not sure what to do. She obviously left it for a reason, but if I just destroyed it no one would know she had been involved. Her memory wouldn't be tarnished. "Let's at least put her on the bed," I said. Without a word Wynne stepped down and lifted her shoulders while I took her legs.

"Why would she do something like this? I just don't understand. She didn't even try to fight, that's not like her!" Wynne looked heartbroken. I passed her the note. "Oh," she said after a moment.

"If we take it no one would know," I said. "But… she wrote it for a reason. It's her last words." I shrugged. "I don't know what to do."

Wynne looked just as lost as me. "I'd… I'd hate to think of her in some forgotten grave. How Bridget got mixed up in something like this, though… I thought she was smarter than that."

"Leliana?" I said. She had the compassion of Andraste herself. I'd never met someone so willing to forgive. Maybe she would know what to do. I showed her the note. "Should we leave it here? What do you think?"

"This is her final message to the world," Leliana said after a moment. "It seems… wrong to rob her of it, even if it will harm her memory." I had to admit, Leliana made a good point. Bridget wrote it for a reason. She _wanted _people to read it. She pushed her red hair behind an ear, looking thoughtful and very sad. "Perhaps it will be good, though. With everyone gone, this is the only way they will ever realize this was all a horrible mistake, something that spiraled out of control. That the death and destruction was never what they intended."

I nodded. "You're right. I can't take her last words." I tucked the paper back into her hand and smoothed her hair out.

"Maggie?" Zevran said. I looked over to where he stood by her vanity. "I think you may want to take these drawings."

I looked, there were two. One of me and Jowan, I remembered sitting still for ages so she could work on it. You could see the hint of the bookshelves behind us, the lamp on the library table by my arm. Bridged loved to draw. There was a second I hadn't seen before. She had copied the original and added herself to the scene. It must have been after Jowan and I left the tower.

She probably didn't even know if we were alive or dead.

"Yes," I said. "Thank you, Zev. I… yes, I want those." He removed them and placed them carefully between the pages of a book he then tucked back into his bag. I took everything from the secret compartment in her trunk so the Templars wouldn't be gawking over her private letters and notes, and pocketed the locket from her neck. On impulse, just as I reached the door I rushed back to her body, pulling the blanket up high enough to cover her ravaged wrists before turning and walking out of the room.

I sighed as we continued on. "Well, that's it," I said. "The two best friends I had here are both dead. I suppose it can't get any worse." Zevran put a hand on my back and gave me a sympathetic glance.

"Margaret?" Wynne called before he could say anything. I slowed my pace so I was walking near her. "Were you involved in this?"

Wow. I suppose she wasn't much for subtlety. Although my two closest friends left in the tower were clearly part of the conspirators, and my best friend left the tower by using blood magic, so I suppose she had good reason to suspect me.

"No," I said. "Brennan mentioned something about a meeting of the Libertarians after Uldred returned from Ostagar, but all he knew is Uldred had some kind of plan, and the backing of someone who would be at the battle. He didn't know the plan, and I left the day after I found just that much out."

"Was he a blood mage then? Were you helping him keep it a secret like you did Jowan?"

"I didn't know about Jowan, and I didn't know about Brennan until moments before he _died in my arms_," I snapped. "While you _stood there,_ I should add. Really, can you wait until I'm not _covered in his blood_ before you start quizzing me on what I knew about his activities and when I knew it? Maker's breath, in the last few hours I've seen the bodies of two of my best friends. Are you _trying_ to see if you can get me to snap before we manage find Irving? Since you've hit on a fantastic way to go about it."

"Bellissima," Zevran called, walking back and grabbing me by the waist. "I was just reminded of a story I think you will enjoy. I must share it now, before I forget. Did I ever tell you about my second assignment for the Crows?" I saw him glance back but couldn't catch his expression.

"No," I said. "I don't think so."

"Oh, you will like this one," he said. "I was sent after a mage from the Antivan circle. She had been meddling in politics. I'm not sure how, but I got the impression it involved sex." He smirked at me. "But then… I get that impression about most everything."

I listened to him speaking, managing to tune out everything but his voice. Whenever we were attacked Zevran would stop, only to resume his story the moment it was clear.

Wynne's voice managed to cut past his at one point. "_Is he telling that girl stories about **murdering people**?" _

_"She already knew he was an assassin,_" Alistair responded. _"That **is** how they met."_

_"Oh, I think it's so romantic," _Leliana broke in. _"I am telling you, I will write a ballad when this is over and it will be on everyone's lips from here to Tevinter!"_

"They gossip too much," I said.

"I agree," Zevran replied. "Although it seems Wynne does not approve of my occupation."

"Wynne doesn't approve of _anything_," I replied.

He laughed. "I am tempted to have some fun with her. But… now is not the time."

We came across a desire demon and templar she had enthralled. "Huh," was about all I could say. Kill her, he'll fight to the death to protect her. Wynne was protesting that the emotions he felt were false since they were brought on by an illusion. Can someone feel real emotions about an illusion if they believe it to be real? I haven't the faintest idea. That sounded like something a lot of very educated people would spend many years discussing and still not agree. But… killing her would kill him, and since we would be killing her to free him that seemed a bit counterproductive.

"Fine, go," I said to the demon. "I'd better not see you making any offers to me in the fade."

"So we're freeing maleficar _and_ demons now?" Wynne said as we left.

"Oh, did _you_ want to kill that man? Since I really didn't. That was the option. Free them both or kill them both. Since _I'm_ not a templar I'll err on the side of _less death_ every time."

"I… I suppose I cannot argue with that reasoning," she said.

More demons, more abominations, more templars, this time bewitched to attack... Covered in a fresh layer of blood, we finally made it to the First Enchanter's office. For a moment I expected to see him and Duncan arguing with Greagoir again. Shaking my head, I walked in. Unsurprisingly, he wasn't there. While Wynne looked for some 'clue' as to what could have happened we went through our usual 'grab anything not nailed down' procedure.

"I got you some spell books," Zevran said. "New spells, they were rather heavily locked up." He raised an eyebrow at me, making sure I understood what he was saying. Really, not hating me or wanting me dead when he found out I learned blood magic would have been impressive. To actually provide me with spellbooks? Well… spellbooks stolen from the desk of the First Enchanter, but he stole them for me! That was much more than I could have hoped for. Impulsively, I leaned over and kissed him.

"Is this really the time for such childish antics?" Wynne snapped.

Zevran must have caught a glimpse of me rolling my eyes. Maker's breath, I gave him a ten second peck on the lips and she's snapping at us? He caught my eye and smirked before grabbing me by the back of my head and kissing me deeply. "If we're going to be chastised I would like to make sure we've done something that is actually deserving of the comments." Dropping his voice Zevran added "You know, annoying her is _great_ fun."

Smirking, we walked on ahead. "_No, you do not understand,"_ I heard Leliana say._ "He is very clever, keeping her distracted." _I glanced at Zevran. Is that what he was doing? Were they all _that_ worried I would simply fall apart?

I suppose I hadn't given anyone any reason to think otherwise from how I'd been acting, though. I needed to get my mind focused. I didn't want to die here now any more than I wanted to die here six months ago, but I would if I kept acting like some heartbroken damsel in distress. If Zevran really thought I was so close to breaking that he had to throw spell books and kisses and stories at me just to keep me functional… Taking a breath I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to clear my mind. _Come on, Maggie. You're a Grey Warden. You're supposed to be tough. This isn't as bad as an archdemon._

I felt much better walking into the next room.

Where I promptly fell asleep.

Kicking a wall, I shrieked in frustration. "I _hate_ the damned Fade!" I shouted at no one in particular. It was to no one since, well, I had no idea where the others were. With a grunt of annoyance I stomped forward to see… Duncan.

"You've been at Weisshaupt for some time. What do you think of it?"

Really? _Really?_ This was the best they could do? _Weisshaupt_? That's what the demons think I want? No gorgeous men, no booze, nothing to fight. Just... some boring dusty old fortress?

I sighed. "I think_ the real Duncan_ died at Ostagar, I think that's the Black City floating over there, and I think I'm not nearly as stupid as you must have assumed. So, come on, let's go."

"Foolish child! I offered you peace, may the darkspawn be your doom!"

Laughing, I cast an ice spell. "That's pretty much the long-term plan," I told the demon as I cast lightning, quickly finishing the other two 'Wardens' as well.

Activating the pedestal I sighed when it simply transported me to another area. At least this one was the true Fade, though. No layers of false hopes set on top of it. "Damned Fade," I muttered, looking around. "Niall?"

"Oh," he said. "Hello, Maggie. I see the sloth demon got you, too. At least you made your way out of the first trap."

"So it seems," I sighed. "How do we get out of here?"

"We don't," he said.

I raised my eyebrow. "Come on, Niall. There's always some trick to get out."

"You think I haven't tried? Take a look at the pedestal for yourself. I've been to all the islands we can reach now. There will be a door that shimmers just out of view or one that's too heavy to kick open. Flames will block a path, or the only way through is a hole so small I can't even fit my arm." He sighed. "It's a shame you managed to live through Ostagar only to die here."

"We are _not_ going to die here," I said. "I've killed more demons and abominations than I can count today, what's a few more here?"

"For one thing it's a Sloth demon."

"Tell me about it," I said.

"Well, he and I aren't exactly _friends,_" he replied with a sardonic grin, "but I do know it's powerful. Not as much as a pride demon, but definitely much more than a rage or desire demon." Oh goody.

"Have you seen anyone else come through here?" I asked him. "An elf with long blond hair and tattoos, he would have an Antivan accent. Maybe a big blond guy in chainmail or a pretty redhead in leathers with a bow and an Orlesian accent? Senior Enchanter Wynne? "

"No…" he said, giving me a strange look. "Strange company you're keeping these days. But I've seen only you. The demon, it… it tries to trap you. In what it thinks you want, or what you fear. You got out of it, like me. They might still be stuck on one of the outlying islands."

The first didn't sound so bad. They were stuck, but hopefully _safe_. The second, though… I had to move quickly to be sure. Although really, if _I_ could see my way out of that, how was Wynne still stuck? Wasn't she supposed to be some kind of genius with the Fade?

"I'm going to look around for myself," I told him. "Do you want to come with me?"

"No, I think I'll just stay here. I've been all through this place. I don't even know why you're bothering."

I rolled my eyes. "Wow, Niall. Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"You'll see," was all he said.

After some exploration of that island I managed to pick up the ability to learn the form of a mouse. When the dreamer approached me I jumped back, grabbing my staff. It was not, however, the same 'mouse' I met during my harrowing, thankfully.

"You look… different," Niall said when I returned. "What happened?"

I glanced at my arms to make sure I hadn't accidentally given myself a permanent coating of brown fur. Ears fine, tail… oh, that was it. Focusing, I dropped the last of the form. Oops.

"I learned to become a mouse!"

"You did?" he was actually excited. "Was it easy? Could you learn more forms?"

"I don't know, I'm going to check the other islands and see. It was easy, I can teach you."

"No… that's all right. I'll wait here. I'm very tired."

I jumped from island to island. Each was some Fade version of the tower, twisted and warped by the demon's interpretation of my former home. One was filled with fire, another with golems. One even had darkspawn! Whenever I could I would drop back into the form of a mouse, sneaking past the hallucinating dreamers. Everyone I saw tried to attack me, and killing them in the Fade would mean killing their unconscious bodies outside of it as well. Perhaps if I spared them they would be fine when this was all over.

I don't know how many hours it took me, but I slowly managed to gather more forms to shift into across each of the islands.

Returning to where I began, I told Niall how I could get through any of the barriers now. He still didn't seem to care. With a sigh, I went off again, shifting to pass through one of those shimmering near-invisible doorways on this island. Of course, a demon waited on the other side.

"What happened?" Niall said when I came back. "It felt like the whole island shook!"

"I killed the demon on this one," I told him, using a healing orb to take care of the grey frozen skin on my arm. "See! We can do this. Come with me, it'll be easier with both of us working together. I hate the damned Fade, don't make me kill them all by myself."

He stared at me. "Aren't you cold?" I tried to tug at his sleeve. Niall was having none of it, though, so I left him where he was. Annoyed, I jabbed my hand against the pedestal, sending myself to the next island.

I was getting strangely used to running around in the form of a mouse, slipping out of it only when I had no other choice. I could see dreaming mages and templars arguing and ranting madly. Hopefully they would be, well, sane when they woke up. As I worked my way through the mazes of crooked walls and fire, killing the weak demons one by one, additional islands seemed to open up.

Once each of the original islands was cleared of its demon the center lit on the pedestal. I decided to postpone that, traveling to one of the outlying islands first. If I was right the sloth demon would be waiting in the middle of his maze, I didn't want to face him alone.

I found Dane on the first island. "Sleeping, boy?" I said, bending over to scratch his ears. He opened his eyes and, seeing me, jumped to his feet. "Ready to go?" Dane barked in agreement but before I could go to the pedestal he vanished. Well… that was helpful. Not having the slightest idea where he went or how to find him, I could only continue on to the next island.

"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered, looking at Leliana kneeling as she recited the Maker's blessings under the watchful eye of a demon in the form of an old priest.

"Excuse me, do I know you?" she said, looking at me.

I bit my tongue and reminded myself she hadn't been taught how to recognize a demon since childhood. "Leliana, it's me, Maggie. We need to get out of here. Remember, we were at Circle tower?"

Of course, she didn't believe me. I eventually managed to convince her that we did, in fact, know each other. Just in time for the demon to attack us, in fact. "Holy Maker… she… she was a…"

"A demon, yes," I said.

Leliana barely had time to tell me her head hurt before she disappeared, too.

Alistair introduced me to his 'sister' on the next island, and asked me not to tell anyone how easily he was fooled once the demon had died. As I expected, he vanished a moment later.

I was annoyed to see Wynne was on the next island I checked. The bodies of 'apprentices' surrounded her, and when I walked over she first yelled at me for not being there to help, and then called me heartless. "Wynne, we're in the Fade. Come on, you're a mage, you should _know_ this."

"The Fade? I… have not considered that. I've always had such an affinity for the Fade, how could I not recognize it?" Yes, I had been wondering that myself. It didn't seem the time to ask, though. Like with Alistair and Leliana, the 'people' around us revealed their true forms and attacked, followed quickly by Wynne vanishing.

Now smiling, I hit the pedestal once more. Zevran would be on the next island, probably annoyed with whatever lie the demon was throwing in his face and not believing a word of it. Leliana and Alistair were so disturbingly trusting, and Wynne wasn't much better. I couldn't imagine him falling for it, though.

Catching my breath as I rematerialized, I glanced around. Following the sound of voices I saw two demons, in the form of elves, standing over a table.

I gasped as I walked closer before breaking into a run. It wasn't a _table_, it was a _rack, _and they had Zevran tied to it! "Let him go!" I screamed.

"What are you doing here?" Zevran said, obviously confused. "You're not supposed to be here." Well, at least he recognized me.

"I'm here to help you, why do you think I'm here!" I started untying the ropes and, of course, he began questioning me.

"No," he protested. "I must stay strong. I need to prove I can tolerate pain if I am to be a Crow."

I ignored him and kept tugging at the knots. "You _are_ a Crow, Zev. Think back. The tower, the demon?"

He sat up, rubbing his wrists. "What?" I was amazed the demon-torturers hadn't stopped me yet. Probably because Zevran still didn't _believe _me. "No… you speak the truth. I can feel it. What is this, nothing but a bad dream? A bad memory?"

"Exactly," I said, grabbing my staff. He didn't move from the table, though. Instead he stared past me at the demons. When they attacked I was shocked to see Zevran actually move to stand behind me. Well… not so much stand as hide. I suppose when it came to finding out what people feared the most the sloth demon did a better job than his attempt at making me happy. Fortunately it was only two demons, and they were easy to kill. Not knowing how long it would be before he disappeared, I spun around the moment the second demon fell and threw my arms around him. "Are you all right, Zev?"

After a moment he took a breath. "Well," Zevran said, chuckling, "there's nothing quite like a good racking to get your blood pumping, is there?"

And, of course, before I could say anything since it was fairly clear he was _not_ all right, he disappeared.

With nowhere else to go, I activated the pedestal for the final island at the center. The demon was waiting for me. As he rambled on about how, if I went back, he would do a better job with my dream I heard Alistair's voice behind me, followed by a bark. Spinning I saw him standing with Dane. Leliana appeared a moment later, followed by Wynne. Zevran was last. Glancing around he muttered "What happened to all those luscious wood nymphs," before winking at me.

I certainly wasn't going to argue if he'd rather pretend that was what the demon gave him.

It didn't take long for the monster to realize he wasn't going to convince us of anything. Transforming into the shape of an ogre, it attacked. I thought we were doing rather well, as he seemed to be close to falling. But, before I could figure out what was going on, everyone was thrown back as the demon changed form, emerging revitalized.

"That hardly seems fair," Zevran said, slipping behind it for a backstab. Now in the fiery shape of a rage demon, I called on every ice spell I knew, trying to weaken it. Once again it seemed ready to drop, and once again each of us were sent tumbling back, only to see an abomination charging towards us as we recovered our footing.

I screamed out his name as I saw the demon swipe at Zevran. He dropped a dagger, holding one hand over his stomach while he continued to try and fight. Before Wynne could make her way over to him a bash from Alistair's shield timed to coincide with a Dane snapping his jaws on the creature sent it into another transformation.

As soon as she was on her feet Wynne started to run towards him, hands already glowing blue. I followed close behind, trying to keep myself between her and the demon, now in the form of a shade. Which just meant it sent both me and Wynne flying with one powerful slam of its arms. I groaned in pain, feeling something pinch in my chest as I stood up. Wynne was even worse, though. She was breathing, but clearly wouldn't be standing up any time soon, blood trickling from the top of her head. I heard Alistair shout. Looking up I saw Leliana on the ground not far from him, her leg bent at an unnatural angle and her face waxy. She was still trying to shoot off arrows, but it was clear the pain was throwing off her aim. They were going high, low, too far to either side. Everywhere but where we needed them. As I watched from the demon's other side, all while casting spell after spell, her eyes rolled back and she slumped over.

"This is bad!" I shouted before doubling over, coughing. Spitting on the ground, I noticed it was blood.

"How many more shapes can it have?" Alistair said, lunging forward viciously with his sword. The answer, apparently, was one, as the thee of us who remained on our feet, and Dane, were pushed back once more. This time the demon took on the shape of an arcane horror.

"This should be it," I said, the effort of talking sending me into another fit I had to let subside before I could mutter the words to cast another frost spell. "Watch out, this form lets it cast spells." More blood came from my mouth. I was starting to feel dizzy and I ran out of lyrium two forms ago.

I looked at Zevran. He was standing in a pool of blood, one arm clutched to his stomach, still trying to fight, but clearly just barely clinging to consciousness. I'd never seen him look so pale. Turning to Alistair, hoping he would realize how bad Zevran and I were both doing, I could only watch in horror as he was paralyzed and tossed aside like a rag doll.

With a grimace I pulled Godwin's knife from my belt and slashed my hand open.

* * *

_More good times at the Circle of Magi. It always disturbed me that, in the toolset, the exact posture Zevran adopts during the fight in his dream is called "cower." That just seems so... unlike him. Which is, I suppose, the point. _  
_Thanks to all my readers and reviewers. I promise things will start looking up, well, soon._


	29. I don't think hobby is the right word

I opened my eyes, glad for the first time in my life to see the familiar stone ceiling of the tower above me. "Thank the Maker," I sighed, looking around. "Is everyone all right?" They were all starting to sit up as well, looking no worse for the wear. Injuries in the fade weren't _real _injuries since your real body wasn't there. They went away when you woke. The only time they were a problem was if you were killed in the fade; _that_ was just as fatal as being killed outside it.

Which would be exactly why Niall's body remained lying still on the floor. The demon had been drawing his power off Niall's life, using him to create the worlds we had all been trapped in. By the time I managed to defeat all the minor demons and our group took down the sloth demon it was too late to save him. I tried to argue that we could try but really, deep down I knew he was right. All I could do was hold his hand, reassuring him that his mother would be proud, until his spirit faded away.

I was first to my feet. Before anyone else was up Alistair grabbed me by the arm, dragging me into an empty room. Shouting "Warden business" over his shoulder he gave me a murderous glare. Dane slipped in after us, just before he slammed the door closed.

"_What_ was that?" Alistair demanded. Dane planted himself at my feet protectively. He made an unhappy whimper. But then, if it was anyone _but_ Alistair yelling at me he would be growling and bearing his teeth by now.

"You know exactly what it was," I replied, refusing to yell.

"Are you _insane_?" he said, still yelling. "How long has this been going on? Is this just the first time I've _caught_ you?"

"It's the first time I've actually used the spell," I said. "I just learned it."

His eyes narrowed. "Jowan."

"Yes," I agreed.

"You _bitch!_" he screamed. I took a step back. Alistair looked like he wanted to hit me or, well, much worse. "I felt _bad_ for you. I thought you wanted to say goodbye to him in private. Everyone else questioned why we were waiting for over an hour, but I _defended_ you. 'He's the closest thing she has to family,'" I said. "Looks like I was the fool. You just sent us away so… what? He could teach you to use blood magic?"

"No!" I said quickly before realizing he was at least partially right. "Well, that wasn't _all_ of it," I said. "I did want to say goodbye to him. I'll probably never see him again."

"Oh, so you made sure to use those last moments to become a maleficar, then? Fantastic. The darkspawn and Loghain aren't _quite_ exciting enough for you? We need every templar in Ferelden trying to kill us, too?" He was glaring at me, but thankfully not yelling.

"Screw the templars. I'm not a Circle mage, I'm a Grey Warden and you know damn well it's allowed. What, are you my commanding officer now? Are we rewriting our rules to suit the Chantry?" I ran a hand through my hair. "Damn it, Alistair, would you rather we all be _dead_? Zevran was bleeding so much I was amazed he could stand, Wynne and Leliana were unconscious, you got picked up and _thrown_ and no one's neck should _ever_ be at that angle, and I was choking to death on my own blood, I could barely even get the spell out since I couldn't _breathe, _and I was too damn tired to cast any more spells the normal way. You know what happens if you die in the Fade? You die! We had to end that fight or we would never have made it back."

"Maker's breath," he groaned, putting his face in his hands. "Why would you _want _something like this? I won't argue it's allowed for you, but templars don't care. They find out and you're dead, Grey Warden or not." Alistair stared at me. "Look around you. This is all because of blood magic! Look at all the harm it's caused!"

"I refuse to believe that," I said. "I can't believe a spell has its own _morality_. _People _caused this destruction, not some mindless spell. A spell can't force someone to cast it, it can't force them to turn it on another person. Those decisions were all made by people. A spell just exists, it doesn't _think_. I have morals, and I'm using the spells for good, not evil." I sighed, leaning against the wall. "Really, by blaming the spells you're just removing the responsibility from Uldred here.

"How can you ever think good will come of this?" he said, shaking his head. "It's… it's _evil_. Maggie, you could end up damned. I'm not what anyone would call religious, but even I'd be worried about that. '_They shall find no rest in this world or beyond.' _ I'm sure you've heard that as many times as I have. Why aren't you the least bit concerned?"

"Because I want to win," I snapped. "I want to win, and I want to live. I want all of us to live!" I tugged at my hair, wishing I could somehow just dump out my thoughts so Alistair understood. Words were proving fairly inadequate for the task. "And if it costs me my soul to make sure that happens, well… I'll worry about that later. Right now I'm more concerned with keeping myself alive long enough to actually make it to face the archdemon, since at the rate we're going it won't happen otherwise." I leaned against the wall and slid down it. "Look around, Alistair. They were all so damned _helpless_. They were just… slaughtered. Like animals, or worse. Once we run out of energy… without lyrium…" I suppressed a sob, my reaction to the entire day threatening to pour out of me. "I don't want to end up like them, and I've come close to that _so many times_. I'm no warrior. I can't use a sword, I can't even throw a decent punch. But I get too much lyrium in me and I suddenly seem to think I can run right at some giant monster like I was actually wearing armor. Magic is all I have. I'm always so terrified of what will happen when I just can't go on in a fight. I will _not _die just because I was _tired!_"

"Hey, hey," Alistair said, kneeling by me. "Don't cry, since if you start I'll start, and then Dane will start, and then everyone will come look and there goes our reputation. And really, it's not in the best of shape as it is these days." I managed a smile at that. "Look, I'm not happy about this, but… I shouldn't have yelled at you, not after everything you've been through today. And I really _can't_ argue with your reasoning. I still wince when I think about the way you got addled and charged the broodmother." He sighed, putting a hand on my shoulder and meeting my gaze. "It's _not_ about me being a templar, I swear it. It's not the Chantry rules I care about, it's what could happen to you. I'm scared you'll end up like Connor. I _know _you think I'm exaggerating the danger, but it _can't _be pure coincidence that most maleficar end up becoming possessed. And… I'm bothered that you didn't tell me. We're supposed to be working together." He made a sad face. "I thought we were friends."

"I am going to _kill_ you," I said to him. "We're really going to play the Why-didn't-you-tell-me-I-thought-we-were-friends game? Since I think I'll win, _Your Royal Highness_." I rolled my eyes. "I kept this from you for a couple _days_, how long were we friends before you let that little secret free?"

"Ouch," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I… suppose you may have a point."

"Oh, you think?" I made a face at him. "Now quit with the puppy-dog look, I'm not Leliana, that shit won't work on me. Like I can't tell you're just trying to guilt me now."

Alistair offered me a hand and pulled me back onto my feet. "You are so wrong, it _always _works on you. Didn't you notice you ended up making breakfast on my day _and_ Zevran's day last week?"

"Oh, now I'm _really_ going to kill you," I said.

"I'm sure you will," he said. "Come on, we can talk about this another day. I shouldn't have even brought it up now. I was just…"

"Angry? Enraged? Furious?"

"Let's go with enraged," he said. "But the moment has passed. Now I'm… more 'vaguely uncomfortable' and 'slightly hungry.' But we still have to kill Uldred, save the First Enchanter, and redeem your good name in the eyes of the Circle before we can eat."

I snorted. "My name has _never_ been good."

"Why am I not surprised by that," Alistair mused.

"Because we didn't just meet this morning?"

"Riiiight," he said, grinning and messing up my hair as we left the room to rejoin the others.

After grabbing a spell from Niall's pocket that would be able to counteract any attempts at mind control, and trying to at least fold his hands on his chest and close his eyes so he didn't look quite so gruesome, we pressed on.

"How did this happen?" I said not long after. "Where did these even _come from_? Seriously, did Uldred _will_ them into being?" I chewed a fingernail. "Is that possible? _Can_ a maleficar will something into being?" That would certainly solve our 'never enough money for food or supplies' problem if I could just magic us up a nice deer. "Did he bring them with him to set free in the tower? Could he smuggle in almost half a dozen drakes without anyone noticing?" I looked around at the bodies of smaller male counterpart of dragons, which still meant they were twice the size of my two hundred pound dog, and shook my head in absolute bafflement.

"Perhaps they were in the cavern storerooms under the tower?" Wynne suggested.

"No," I said. "The door was still locked, I tried to get in for lyrium when we went past. Also blocked by, um, a large number of corpses. I think some people hoped to hide in there."

"So… I take it the tower was not always crawling with drakes?" Zevran looked up from where he was skinning one of them. Their scales were, apparently, extremely valuable for armor.

"You don't think I would remember something like that?"

"Ah, you know how the mind is. Memories fade with time… we forget the stain on our clothing, the hair out of place, the bad joke someone made, the drakes roaming the halls…"

I snorted with laughter and helped him to his feet.

"Well, nothing we can do about it," Alistair said. "Asking him 'where did the drakes come from' isn't on my list of what we should do when we finally find Uldred." I nodded and walked on.

"There's someone alive in here!" Leliana called. I ran ahead, skidding to a halt.

"Cullen?" I said, seeing the templar kneeling in some kind of force field.

"It may be a trap," Zevran said.

"We have to go this way," I said. "There's nowhere else besides the Harrowing Chamber."

He looked up as I walked in. "This trick again?"

"Trick?"

"I know what you are," he said. "It won't work!"

He wasn't making much sense. "Don't you recognize me?"

"Only too well," he snapped. "Filthy blood mages, sifting through my thoughts… tempting me with the one thing I always wanted and could never have."

"Um… should I be hearing this?" I said, stepping back. Maybe he couldn't see through the force field from his side?

"Someone was quite the heartbreaker as an apprentice," Zevran said, poking me in the back.

Cullen was muttering something about his 'ill-advised infatuation' with a mage. The way he said mage made my skin crawl.

"Begone!" he said, raising a hand. I felt my shield spell flicker and dissipate. I recast it and looked at him in confusion.

"Cullen, we're real," I said.

Once he managed to accept that I listened with horror as he demanded we go into the Harrowing Chamber and simply kill everyone. I finally gave up. "Just… wait here," I said to him, not wanting to continue the 'discussion.' He wouldn't have been happy unless I agreed to rampant slaughter, and even thinking about it made me feel sick.

"As though I had a choice," he snapped. "Maker-turn-his-gaze-on-you," he rattled off quickly, sounding not in the least bit sincere. "I hope your compassion hasn't doomed us all." Hm, now_ that_ part did sound sincere.

Climbing the steps to the harrowing chamber, I shoved the heavy door open, Alistair reaching over my head to help me. I could see the First Enchanter lying on the ground, obviously in pain, and several others around him. As I watched, Uldred did... something to one of them. Horrified, we stared as the mage screamed in pain, distorting wildly into an abomination.

"Maker's breath," Alistair gasped. That got Uldred's attention. Or, more specifically, the attention of the demon currently inhabiting his body. Great. He wasn't a blood mage anymore, he was an abomination. Well that would certainly make things more exciting. Unfortunately not in a fun way, either. And just give Alistair more fuel for his 'you'll become an abomination' fire.

"Oh look," he said. "Irving's star pupil. Uldred didn't think much of you then, and I certainly can't see the appeal now."

"Your loss," I shrugged.

"Yes, so the graffiti in the men's dorm would imply," he said. Dane growled at him.

"Oh, _very _clever," I said, rolling my eyes. "That's the _best_ you can do? That means you're just as clever as the girl who bunked across from me that failed basic entropy three times. _Impressive_."

"You're right," he said. "That was rude of me. We don't need to be enemies." I raised an eyebrow. Was he _really_ expecting me to fall for this? "I can't help but imagine what you will be able to do when we combine the power of a demon with your raw potential. You have so much in common with Uldred, after all."

I narrowed my eyes, stepping back. I couldn't help but notice Wynne staring at me. "I'm _nothing_ like him," I snapped, attacking before he could say anything else. Thankfully the others followed my lead, pausing only as he roared, taking on the form of a pride demon.

"Wow," Alistair muttered. "That's…"

"Really, really big," I finished.

"Everything can die," Zevran said, darting past us with both blades drawn. "Just a matter of finding the weak spot." He laughed, and I heard the demon howl as Zevran's assassin training guided him to a tendon.

Alternating between reading the litany whenever Uldred attempted to turn more of the mages into abominations and keeping him immobilized with ice, stone, even the occasional crushing prison spell, I did the best I could to stay out of reach of the demon and his minions.

One managed to throw me to the ground. I made a sound of relief as Dane leapt towards me, knocking the demon away so I could recover my footing.

Although it took a long time, and Wynne was kept busy running between each of us to cast healing spells almost nonstop, we finally managed to kill him. Helping the First Enchanter down the stairs, I listened to him complain about the circle being housed in a tower the entire time.

I was relieved to see more survivors in the lower hall. The blood mage looked at me and nodded. I returned the gesture. Maybe people heard us pass through and came downstairs when we had already left? In either case, it was welcome. "How many are with the Templars?" First Enchanter Irving asked me.

"None," I said quickly.

"Pardon?"

"None," I repeated. "They only saved themselves. And the Templars who tried to save others were locked in here to die with everyone else."

"I'm sure it's not as bad as you make it sound," he said.

"Five of us and a dog were able to take care of it. There are more than twenty Templars out there who claimed it was too much for them to handle." Cullen, whose prison had vanished with the death of Uldred, made a noise of protest. I turned to stare at him. "They left you to die, too."

He didn't say anything else to me, but I could hear him muttering under his breath. "I would watch my words, were I you," Zevran said in a cold voice. Whatever Cullen had been muttering ceased, I looked back in time to see him giving Zevran a wary glance.

Alistair pounded on the large front doors. "Open up," he shouted. "The First Enchanter is with us."

They swung open, and I saw the Knight-Commander's shocked face on the other side. "Told you," I muttered, helping the old mage to a chair.

Once Irving had sat down I kneeled, checking on Dane. He whimpered nervously, looking back at the doors. "Don't worry, we're leaving soon," I promised him. "You've been _very_ brave." I dug a treat from my pack, listening to Irving and Greagoir talk with one ear. After reassuring Dane that he was the absolute bravest dog to ever live and giving him his treat I stood up, wiping dog slobber off my face with a sleeve.

"They could have demons in them, lying in wait," Cullen was saying to the Knight-Commander.

"Are you _kidding_ me," I snapped. "You wanted me to kill everyone without even going in the room. When did you get so bloodthirsty, Cullen? This isn't like you!"

"I used to think we were too hard on you," he said. "I know better now. Only mages have this kind of power, only mages are so weak in the face of a demon's promises."

"I think you mispronounced _thank you for saving my life_," I sneered. He gave me a dirty look right back.

Greagoir looked appalled, all but telling him to shut up. Announcing he was satisfied that order had been restored, he began issuing orders to his men to start sweeps of the tower for survivors and any demons we might have missed the first time through.

After getting the First Enchanter's promise of aid against the archdemon, I asked him about the boy in Redcliffe.

"So… you mean to confront the demon in the Fade?" he said.

"Hopefully," I told him. "It may be a wasted trip, though." Wynne was standing very close to us, obviously interested in the conversation, but I dropped my voice so Alistair and Leliana couldn't hear. "Half of our group remained behind. If the demon gets out of control again…" I sighed. "They know what they have to do. He could have killed everyone in that town. No one life is worth a whole village."

The First Enchanter nodded. "That was the smart decision. I don't see why we shouldn't at least try, though. Perhaps we can even bring the lad back with us immediately, depending on his health after the ordeal. The Circle needs new blood, now more than ever."

I didn't respond. I hated condemning that little boy to a life here, but it was better than simply being killed.

"Are we all ready?" I asked the others. They nodded in agreement.

"Before you go, there is something I must bring up," Wynne said. I stared, waiting for her to go on. "Some of the spells you used… they're unfamiliar. Disturbing and powerful, and not taught by the Circle. Where did you learn them?"

I froze. I could hear Alistair's chainmail clicking together as he stepped closer to me. "From… the Grey Wardens," I said quickly.

"There is only ever one mage Warden at any time, and that is you. So who taught the spells to you?"

The First Enchanter replied before I could, which was great since I hadn't the faintest idea what I would say. "The Wardens have many books reserved for themselves alone," he said. "They include all the wisdom of Wardens past and present, among them the mages."

"You're not kidding," Alistair spoke up from behind me. "I swear, half the Denerim library was nothing but dusty old spellbooks none of us could even read. We used to joke that Duncan would never notice if we replaced them all with Navarran romance novels…" he drifted off, sounding more miserable with every word. I turned around to make sure he was ok and Alistair met my eyes briefly. I was almost sure he… winked. Before giving a loud, dramatic sniffle. I put my hand on his shoulder and, a moment later, Alistair quickly looked past me before saying. "I'm sorry… I'm fine now."

Turning back to the First Enchanter and Knight Commander I said "Duncan was at Ostagar… he…"

"Of course," Irving said quickly, giving us both a sympathetic look.

"The Grey Wardens methods may be questionable," Greagoir said finally. "But I must believe that their intentions and goals are, ultimately, good."

I relaxed, feeling my heart return to my chest from the spot just behind my teeth it had jumped to. Wynne said something in apology which seemed fairly hollow considering she could have gotten me _killed_, and then all but announced she would be joining us. Not just that she would be joining us, but that she would be joining us because I was "brave and good and capable of great things." _What?_ Funny, she didn't seem to think that when she just accused me of being a maleficar in front of the head of the templars not thirty seconds ago. The four of us turned to stare at her in shock, she didn't seem to notice.

One thing kept me from strangling her right there.

Wynne was a healer. One of the best healers in Ferelden.

"Fine," I said through clenched teeth.

She walked ahead of our group as we left. "You _owe me_," Alistair said.

"I know."

"No, I mean it," he said. "You should… wash my socks."

"Fine," I said.

He stopped and looked at me. "Fine?"

I shrugged. "You saved my ass back there. I had no idea what to say. So yeah, I owe you." I looked up at him. "I thought she was unconscious. She certainly wasn't doing anything to heal any of us. I wouldn't have done anything if I knew Wynne could see me!"

"Honestly?" Alistair said. "All your spells have been a bit off today. I noticed something earlier. Not… wrong, just different, and they do seem a bit more powerful. So maybe it changes more than you realized." He sighed. "And you _know_ we wouldn't have let them kill you. I'm mad at you, but you're still my friend. Besides, I'm not going through this as the _only _Grey Warden in Ferelden. It's bad enough with twice that many!"

"You know," Zevran said. "I thought _she_ was a horrible liar. You are even worse, Alistair. I don't know how any of them believed a word either of you said, stumbling and red faced as you were."

"Yeah, well, let's not question our good luck," Alistair said. "And _you_ knew about her… new hobby?"

"I don't think _hobby_ is the right word," I said.

"Well, whatever. You know what I mean."

Zevran snorted. "I could tell the moment she returned from the dungeon. As I said, she was the worst liar I'd ever seen… until I saw your attempts at deception." He paused. "I've often heard of the honor of your order. Perhaps that is simply because you are all too inept at falsehood to manage anything else?"

"Ha ha," Alistair said to him before looking back at me. "I'm really hurt now. You told him and not me?"

"I didn't tell him," I said. "He figured it out on his own."

"Is it _really _such a terrible thing?" Zevran asked. "Compared to the alternative we faced today... it seems rather reasonable to me."

Alistair sighed. We were standing on the shore. Wynne was chatting with the templar at the dock while we waited for the boat to arrive from the other side. They kept it docked on the far side all the time now, apparently someone stole it once in an escape attempt and rowed themselves all the way to Redcliffe.

"I just don't like it," Alistair said.

"There's no going back now," I replied.

"I am _well aware_ of that," he said drily. "Have I ever mentioned I was training to be a templar for oh… eight years?"

"Were you now?"

"I'm being serious," he said.

I sighed. "I know. I just… I really don't want to talk about this now. I want to crawl into my tent and cry."

"Sorry," he said. "I'll drop it for now." Alistair squeezed my shoulder before walking off to check on the boat. I sat in the grass and Dane put his head in my lap. Scratching behind his ears I started chattering away at him mindlessly. Calling him a good dog, making funny noises so he would wag his tail… I had no idea why, but whenever he sat with me I couldn't help it.

Zevran sat next to me, looking over with obvious amusement. "What?"

"Nothing," he replied.

"And you say _I'm _a bad liar?"

He laughed at that. "I am only amused watching someone call her _warhound, _which I saw take down an abomination with one snap of his jaws no less than two hours ago, 'the bestest bravest puppy in the whole world.'"

I giggled. "Wow, I suppose I do sound pretty dumb when I'm taking to Dane."

"No, no… not at all!" He chuckled. "I've never had a pet. Dogs in Antiva… they are not like dogs here in Ferelden." Dane made a noise and Zevran nodded. "No, very true. In Antiva dogs run through the streets eating trash. Not like here. You're very lucky," he told Dane. Dane barked in response. "But, you still smell like a dog. Actually, you smell like several dogs." Another bark. "Yes, yes, huzzah," Zevran deadpanned, petting my dog.

Dane made a snorting noise at Zevran.

"So… why is she coming with us? I thought I was the only person who tried to kill you that was accepted into this merry band. I'm not feeling very special now."

"She's a healer," I said.

"That's it?"

"That's it. You think I trust her? She let Brennan die, she accused me of being a maleficar in front of the Knight-Commander…" I made a face.

"Well technically you a—"

"I know!" I said. "Don't say it out loud. I swear, the walls have ears in this place."

"They would have killed you?"

"Without hesitation."

"You could fight. We were all prepared to. Alistair had his hand on his sword the moment the old bat spoke."

I shook my head. "I could _try_. But one mage in a room full of Templars? The only chance I'd have would be a spell so big it would kill all of us at the same time. I'd be useless and powerless in seconds."

"The rest of us don't have that worry," he reminded me.

Finally the boat arrived. Zevran and I took one bench, Alistair and Wynne another, and Leliana sat with Carroll, distracting him with stories so he wouldn't give us a hard time.

"You are glaring at me," Wynne finally said.

"Oh, you noticed?" Zevran snickered next to me, Alistair shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "You could have gotten me _killed. _I think I've got every right to glare._"_

"You know the penalty for blood magic, it is—"

I cut her off. "No, let me rephrase. You could have gotten one of the _two_ living Grey Wardens in Ferelden killed in the middle of a damned _Blight_. Which would have actually meant killing _every single Warden_ since you must realize we would stand together. So… the penalty for blood magic is what? The damnation of an entire country? Allowing the archdemon to lay waste to Denerim? Letting the darkspawn drag off all the women of Ferelden to be raped and corrupted into broodmothers? Since that seems… oh, I don't know, pretty damned excessive if you ask me."

"So you are?" she gasped, moving back.

"Did I say that?" I asked her. "I didn't say that at all. I simply told you what would have been the result of your accusation if they had believed you instead of me." Of course, I didn't tell her I _wasn't_, either.

Zevran snickered next to me. I looked over at him. "My dear Warden, you're being quite irrational."

"Thank you," Wynne said to him.

He smiled cheerfully. "You and I both know, should they have tried to attack you, we would still be on this boat. There would simply be more corpses left in our wake."

* * *

_ In game, voiced and everything, is a scene where Wynne will accuse you of being a blood mage at the end of the Circle Tower quest (well, if you have that specialization), even if you never used those spells while in the tower. But they took it out since, unless you had medium persuasion, everyone there will attack and you get neither mages nor templars for the final battle. There's an add on to the dialogue tweaks mod that puts it back in, though. Or you can see it in her dialogue tree of the toolset.  
Sorry for the delay on the update. The Massively Huge Drama that was AOA's last couple chapters has been monopolizing my muse's time.  
Thanks so much to everyone who reads and reviews! __  
_


	30. I'll explain when you're older

We made camp almost immediately after reaching the shore of Kinloch Hold. I think Alistair would have traveled all night to get to Redcliff, but I felt more and more exhausted the closer we came to land. By the time we reached the shore all I could do was sit in the grass and stare at the tower, chewing on my lip. Zevran took my pack from me and, without a word, began setting up my tent. Everyone else quickly followed suit. We had been in the tower for more than two days, including our time in the Fade. It was now very late afternoon.

I honestly didn't know if I could go any further without just breaking down, and really didn't want to cry in front of everyone _again_. I was embarrassed enough by the first few times it happened.

I'd be heading right back into the Fade as soon as we reached Redcliffe. I knew Morrigan would go if I asked her, but if the Circle mages arrived with templars that would be… bad. I suppose I could lie and say she was from the Wardens of the Free Marches if they noticed she was an apostate, but that could always create more questions than it answered. Better for all of us if we just didn't call attention to her magic. Or her at all. Maybe I'd make sure she hid out in another room. But that meant, unless I wanted to fight the templars about our apostate companion, I'd have to fight the demon. Not something I was really looking forward to, and, in my current mental state not something I was sure I could survive

If anything happened, well, I'd have to trust everyone waiting for us at Redcliffe to take care of the problem. Sten, Morrigan, and Oghren were all pragmatic enough to see allowing an entire village to be slaughtered for the sake of one boy's life was unacceptable. That was why I asked them, after all. Alistair or Leliana would have hesitated, forgetting that the demon's monsters were slaughtering plenty of other children as they wrung their hands over killing what they both saw as little boy.

"Here," Zevran said, pausing in his work to pass me a small bottle as I stared into the fire. I drank and moved to return it to him. He gestured for me to keep the bottle.

"I… don't think I've ever seen someone drink that much brandy without stopping for so much as a _breath_," he said when he realized I'd finished half of it. "Except perhaps Oghren."

"Sorry," I muttered. "I'll get you more when we're in a town."

"That's not quite my point," he told me, shaking his head before returning to fighting with tent pegs and support posts.

Alistair sat next to me. "You don't think we should rush?" he asked for what might have been the tenth time that night. "I mean, if the demon returns…"

"What do you want me to do?" I said to him. "Drag the boat's crew from dinner and tell them they'll be working all night?"

"We could," he said.

"You can go right ahead," I said, looking into the fire. "It's all _I_ can do to sit here right now." I looked up at him and he flinched. "You know it won't just be showing up for me, I have to fight a _demon_. _Again._ And this time I'll be alone. That's not easy."

"I know it's not," he insisted. "But if we wait, the village could be attacked."

"No, it won't," I said. "Morrigan, Sten and Oghren will do what they have to. I talked to them before we left. Morrigan's a mage, she knows how risky this whole thing is."

He seemed to grasp my point. "You would let them kill a child? Is this why you talked to them separately?"

"Yes and yes," I told him. "If that child, which _isn't _a child at the moment, is causing the deaths of others? Absolutely. And I knew you would object."

"I can't believe you would even consider just… _killing_ him, though!"

"He's _possessed!_ What else would you do? If I hadn't left them with _specific instructions_ to kill him if anything happened I wouldn't have agreed to this insane plan at all, I would have cut his throat myself and been done with it there and then." I grumbled, wrapping my legs around my knees.

"Maker's breath, Maggie," he said, staring at me in horror. "In that case don't you think we should rush?"

"Alistair, do I _look_ like I can go into the fade now? I'm a mess! There's no way I can face a demon and live. Can I get a day or two at least? Sorry, but if there are two Wardens left in Ferelden I don't think letting one die to save a single child is a good idea." I sighed. "Besides, for all we know it's already too late. I can't imagine the demon was passive for this long."

"Alistair, a word?" Zevran called from across camp where he had been standing with Leliana watching our exchange. He grumbled and left the fire. I glanced over after a moment, seeing Leliana gesturing fiercely with both hands while Zevran clenched his fists. _What's that all about?_

"I'm an ass," Alistair said, returning to my side.

"Huh?"

He sat back down. "I'm trying to apologize," he said. "Not doing a good job so far, though. I didn't think. I'm so worried about Arl Eamon… it just didn't occur to me that…"

"Almost everyone I've ever known was just brutally slaughtered, and some that weren't dead when we arrived are now dead by my hand?" I finished for him.

"Yeeeaaah." He sighed. "Like I said, I'm an ass. I'm so sorry. I… Is there anything I can do for you? Anything any of us can do?"

Go back in time so Uldred was killed at Ostagar instead of Duncan? Hit me in the head until I forget? Bring everyone back to life? Somehow I didn't think any of those were within any of our power. Well, the second, perhaps, but I didn't want to deal with asking Wynne to heal me. I don't think she realized I cheated off Jowan in her class. "Keep Wynne occupied and away from me so I don't kill her?" I asked. "Since I'm _really_ tempted to kill her."

"Deal," he said. I'm not sure how long we sat in silence, watching the fire. "So… that was your, um, boyfriend, then?" I raised my eyebrow. Did he think we skipped through the halls holding hands and went for walks under the moonlight? Something told me neither of those activities would meet Circle approval. But, he had clearly been dying to ask ever since we met Brennan in the library. Not that I could blame him, really, even though it wasn't something I wanted to talk about.

Sighing I shook my head. "Not as such. We were sleeping together, but… never actually said it was a relationship or anything."

"But just before he died he said he lo—"

"I _know_ what he said," I snapped. "And that was the first time I'd heard such a thing from him. It really adds a new and exciting layer to my guilt, though."

"Oh," he said. "You don't really have any reason to feel guilty, you know," he said after a moment. "I mean, you didn't know who he was. It wasn't intentional. And, well… he was kind of hitting me with lightning at the time. Since he didn't know you were there and I was with you. It was just… a big horrible misunderstanding. That they started."

"I know, but… I still killed him. He still died in my arms." I took a jagged breath. "All the logic in the world won't let me forget every second of that." I looked at the fire. "I… _really_ don't want to talk about Brennan right now," I said.

Alistair nodded. "I probably shouldn't have even brought it up. I'm, um, not exactly good at the whole _comforting_ thing. That sort of thing wasn't really done in the Chantry."

"You're kidding," I said, not at all surprised.

"Nope," Alistair said, clearly not catching my sarcasm. "When Ki— my father died the brother who told me just patted me on the back and said 'chin up, lad.'" He sighed. "Not quite the same thing, since I'd met him just once. But… I'd always hoped he would come for me eventually, take me from the Chantry. So it was more that the hope died, and they didn't know that, anyways. For all they knew I'd be heartbroken."

"Maker's breath," I gasped. That was cold even by Templar standards. "No wonder the templars are such bastards, if that's how they're all raised. How'd you ever get out of there without turning into a big jerk?"

"I didn't?" he laughed. "Since I've been doing a pretty good job of rubbing salt in your wounds all day without even noticing."

"I expected you would be angry," I said. "You… you have every right to be, really. Springing that on you in battle wasn't what I planned. I was going to tell you after the whole Connor thing was resolved, at camp, in private. I didn't expect us to fight our way from one end of the tower to the other. I didn't even expect we'd be going to the tower, really."

"That was a big part of it," Alistair said. "The shock." He looked into the fire, hands folded. "I know I basically dumped being in charge in your lap. And really, I've never had a problem with any of the decisions you've made. But… you always talk to everyone. You may make the final decision, but never without finding out what everyone thinks. You didn't do that this time. I just don't like being kept out of the loop completely." He shrugged. "And I realize it's not entirely my business what spells you use, but this is something that changes things for both of us."

"Honestly," I said. "If I'd found a book, I would have talked with you. But… it wasn't a book. I had one chance and I had to decide then and there. I… when I sent you ahead I hadn't even _planned _that. I really just wanted to talk to him. But, I decided it was the right thing to do and knew I wouldn't get another chance to learn."

He chuckled quietly. "I never expected I would hear someone telling me they thought learning _blood magic_ was the _right thing to do_."

"Any means necessary," I said. "I mean… what is it you said? Once we undergo the joining our old lives end. To me, I don't know… that makes it seem like I should be a Grey Warden first, and Maggie second. So, if that will make me a better Warden it's the right thing to do. Does that make sense?" Biting my lip, I looked at the fire. "I just want to be a good Grey Warden. And… I don't think that always means being a good person."

Alistair sighed. "I don't want to think like that but… you're probably right," he agreed. "Which is why I'm not, you know, screaming more. I will admit it's powerful, and I will admit that power is sure to come in handy. But…" he sighed. "It means we're at risk from the Chantry, and if people find out… whatever remains of the order's reputation will be shattered. Those are pretty severe down sides from a Warden perspective."

"You're right on both counts. Maybe if it wasn't a blight it wouldn't seem worth it. Or even if we weren't the only ones left. But… we're really desperate here."

"We are," he agreed. "This also means you're at a higher personal risk of possession. And while the _order_ may not care much if you end up possessed in the line of duty, _I _do. You saw those abominations. You're one of the first real friends I've had, I don't want that to happen to you."

I squeezed his hand briefly, glad he thought of me like that, although hearing it made me feel guilty. Not that I didn't think of Alistair as a friend. He'd quickly become one of the closest friends I'd ever had. But… I'd had plenty of friends in my life. Even in the tower I at least had that to make me happy. That he didn't even have that much in the Chantry was heartbreaking. "The demon thing may not be an issue," I finally said. He raised an eyebrow. "Today was the first time I've actually _been to_ the Fade since Ostagar. I haven't had a single normal dream in months. Only darkspawn visions, every single night. If I'm not in the Fade they can't even tempt me. And if that stops after the Blight I'm pretty confident in my ability to resist them."

"Every night?" Alistair said. I nodded. "I heard the dreams were worse if you joined during a blight, but that's horrible. I'm sorry."

"It isn't your fault," I shrugged.

"I was going to say you should try and get some rest instead of taking a watch, but now that would just sound mean." That was surprising. He had insisted I take watch with Zevran every night, even now. Since Wynne was already asleep, and no doubt just as upset as me, that would leave Zevran alone. "But, if you want, go ahead. Zevran can handle being on watch alone."

"You don't mean that," I said, managing a small laugh.

"Well, he hasn't tried to kill us yet, and it's been a couple months," Alistair admitted. "Not like he hasn't had plenty of chances." He looked at me and snickered. "Especially with you."

"I wish you'd give him a chance," I said. "You'd get along."

"Let's not go crazy here," Alistair said. "And I thought I _was_ giving him a chance right now?"

"Fair enough," I said.

"Anyways, go get some sleep"

I shook my head. "Thanks but… I really don't _want_ to sleep. I just can't deal with the nightmares on top of everything else. I do appreciate the offer, though." I looked down at my hands. "I'm too upset to really keep a decent watch, anyways." I laughed then. "You know, if it wasn't for Duncan, I probably would be dead."

"That's two of us, then," he said after a moment. "I can't imagine fleeing to hide in the front hall with the surviving templars. No more than I can imagine you hiding instead of fighting back."

"Alistair…" I began.

He sighed. "Or, with ten seconds of _actual_ thought I'd realize you would have probably been on the other side."

"I highly doubt Uldred told them he planned to get himself possessed and then become an abomination, leaving everyone to die," I said. "People I trusted believed in him, I'm sure I would have, too."

"True," Alistair admitted grudgingly. "I… I still can't believe the templars didn't save a single one of the mages, though. And didn't go back in. It wasn't _easy_, but we managed with a much smaller group." He glanced out at the tower. "I don't like to think the things you say are true, but… that entire scene certainly agreed with the picture you've painted far more than the one I got in training."

"To the Wardens," I said, changing the subject and raising the bottle of brandy. Alistair held out an empty cup, I poured him a measure so he could return the toast. It didn't take long to realize why Alistair rarely drank with me. He caught up to, and surpassed, my level of inebriation in no time. "Andraste's ass, doesn't the Chantry teach you boys how to handle your booze?" I laughed.

"Shut up," he mumbled. "I'm not drunk. That's a… dirty mage lie."

"I got an idea," I said. He looked over at me and I grinned. "No, it'll be _awesome_. Trust me!"

"I'm suddenly scared," Alistair said. "Curious, but scared."

I ignored him and looked around camp. "Hey!" I screamed, finding the person I was hunting. "Zevran! C'mere!"

He walked across the camp, kneeling near me. "You called?"

"I did!" I agreed. "So… I had a thought."

"You often do. However, I should point out you are quite drunk."

"Nah," I said. "So, you're going to give me a tattoo. And then Alistair's getting one!"

"What?" Alistair said.

"Am I?" Zevran asked, amused. "Will this be something you yell about in the morning? Since it does seem like it." I made a face at him. "And Alistair has already decided against a tattoo when I told him of the ritual bathing and massage—"

"You're totally just messing with him," I said. "And you know it. I'm not as gullible. Get your needles."

"I'm not _gullible," _Alistair protested after Zevran had disappeared into his tent, shaking his head and laughing. I hadn't realized he set up my tent and then his own. Seeing that I made a face. Alistair giggled. "Look at you. All… sad-faced because he put up his own tent. My, my. I thought it didn't _mean anything_?" He poked me in the side, laughing.

"Shut up," I said, crossing my arms. "I don't know what you're talking about. I made a sad face because I've had a bloody miserable day."

"Of course," Alistair said, snickering. "I noticed we only used three cabins on the boat ride here. Not even kicking him out anymore? Will you name your first baby after me?"

"I will set you on fire," I warned. "Ugh, don't even joke, I'm worried enough about accidentally getting pregnant." He rubbed the back of his neck and I sighed. "Out with it," I said. "You only do that when you don't want to say something."

"No," he said. "Well, yes. Um. You probably don't have to worry. Or not much." I raised an eyebrow. "Wardens don't really _have_ kids. Everyone I knew who did had them before they joined. I guess it's possible but… really rare."

Hm. So… I probably wouldn't become a mother. "Thank the Maker," I said after a moment. Alistair sagged with relief.

"You're not going to… scream?" he said. "Even Duncan mentioned he was nervous about breaking that to you. None of us knew how a woman would react."

I grinned. "I don't have to worry about going through nine months of misery only to have the Chantry spirit the child off to become a priest who would spit on me or a templar who would happily kill me? No, I think I can live with that."

He nodded. "I should have remembered you never would have expected to have a child anyways."

"Yep," I agreed.

"Well, it's rare, but not _impossible_, so don't go nuts."

"Not about to," I said. "But it means I can, um, reduce the number of precautions I'm taking."

"You can stop right there," he said.

"That's what I figured. Just go get your shield, I'm going to change."

I disappeared before he could argue, returning to the fire wearing a long-forgotten set of Chasind robes. When Alistair saw me he flushed.

"Um, Maggie… you forgot to put on _clothes_."

"I did not, don't be silly."

"Is that Morrigan's? It looks like something she'd wear."

"It's Chasind. I just don't wear it often, mostly since I figured this was exactly how you would react."

Zevran returned then, a small box in his hands. He grinned at my choice of clothing. "My dear, have I mentioned lately that you have exquisite taste in robes?"

I ignored him and grabbed Alistair's shield. "All right, see this griffon? Draw this on my leg, right here," I smacked my hand into my outer thigh, just below my hip. The scandalous cut of the robes ensured there was nothing covering my legs there.

He looked at the shield. "I can do that, yes."

"You're really doing this? You're going to let him give you a tattoo?"

"Sure," I said, laying on my side so the fire would provide enough light. It wasn't dark yet, but it would be before he'd finished. "You're next."

Zevran chuckled, setting out a small bottle of ink and removing several needles. "This may hurt," he warned me. "But it is the kind of pain that is… not so unpleasant."

I laughed at that. "Got it," I said.

"What are you talking about?" Alistair said. "All pain is unpleasant."

Zevran and I shared a glance and I giggled when he winked at me. "I'll explain when you're older," I told Alistair. He made a face at me but blushed anyways.

I winced when he started but after a while I realized it didn't feel like much of anything, just a vague scratching. Alistair watched with curiosity. "Doesn't it hurt?"

"Not really," I said. "Like… a bug bite. Or a bad scratch. Not bad." I glanced down, Zevran was nearly done. "That looks so great." I raised my glass awkwardly and offered a cheer to Alistair. "To not being a dead mage and templar at the tower!"

"To the Wardens," he responded.

"So, where are you getting yours?"

"I don't know…" he waffled.

I made a face. "Come on, Alistair. It'll be great. It can be… like, our Warden thing, matching tattoos. And it'll make you look dangerous. Girls like that."

"They do not," he said.

Zevran snorted, muttering "I am not replying to _that_" quietly enough Alistair couldn't hear him.

"You're saying you know what girls want better than me? I'm a girl, remember? Women _love_ bad boys." I grinned, realizing exactly how I could talk him into this. "Just look at Duncan!"

"What? Duncan wasn't a 'bad boy,' he was the Warden Commander of Ferelden!"

"Sure… when _we_ knew him. You know what he was before that?"

"A Warden," Alistair said, rolling his eyes.

"Ass," I muttered as Zevran cleaned up the tattoo with a damp rag so he could look for areas he might need to touch up. I was fairly sure he didn't need to keep one hand on my backside to hold my leg steady, but I wasn't about to complain. "_Before_ that."

Alistair paused. "You know… I don't know. He never told me."

"Did you ask?"

"…actually, no."

"I did!" I all but sang out. "He was a _cutpurse!_ And a thief!" I giggled at Alistair's open jaw. "Isn't that _awesome!_ I thought he was pretty cute for an old guy before that, especially with the long hair and earring, and that slick armor, but after I found that out… whew. Reformed bad boys are almost as good. Maybe better." I giggled some more. "Shame he was having none of it. 'I'm old enough to be your father, Maggie,' he says." I sighed. "Oh well."

"Wait, you tried to… You were going to… with _Duncan_? Because he used to be a _cutpurse? _Are you kidding me? That is..." he shook his head, draining his glass. "You're _insane_. You're insane and I'm _scared_."

"No," I protested. "I would have because he was a good looking man. That he used to be a cutpurse only… added to his appeal. Bad boys. I'm telling you, it's the way to go."

"Our dear leader is quite right," Zevran told him, adding "how fortunate for me!" as he put an arm around me.

"Maker's breath," Alistair grumbled, rolling up his sleeve. "Fine."

"Excellent!" Zevran said, moving on to work on his arm.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Alistair grumbled. He complained the entire time about how much it hurt.

"I can stop," Zevran finally said, sounding annoyed. "And you can go through life with _half_ a griffon on your arm. Very manly and impressive." I wandered off to show my new tattoo to Leliana.

"I can't believe you let him do that!" she gasped.

"Let him? It was my idea!"

"Tomorrow you will wake up, look at your leg, and wonder what happened," she warned me with a giggle. "And when I tell you, you will swear off drinking forever!"

"No way," I said. "This is _great_. And it's going to always be hidden under my robes, so really, it's just for me." We spoke a little longer before she went off to sleep so she could get up for her watch shift. I rejoined Zevran by the fire. He had just finished Alistair's arm.

"So awesome," I said with a nod, looking at it after getting another drink.

"I'm going to sleep so I can get up and regret this with a clear head," Alistair said. Despite that he looked rather pleased with himself.

"He is quite the whiner," Zevran said when we were alone.

"He's gotten better, actually," I said. "Told me I could get some sleep and you could take first watch alone."

He looked amused at this. "No fears of me slaughtering you in your sleep?"

"Guess not," I said. "Like you could anyways." Zevran made a face at that but chuckled after a moment. "Well, maybe him. He'd have to look for a weapon and so on. And Alistair isn't quite all there when he wakes up."

"So you are awake because it is _you_ who worried I might plan another assassination attempt?" Zevran was grinning openly at that.

"Yes, that's _exactly _it," I said, rolling my eyes. "I know you're not. And if you picked tonight when I'm sleeping in a tent over when we had an actual set of walls and a door I'd wonder about your sanity. I just don't want to sleep. Or try to sleep. I don't want to _think_."

"I can't say I blame you," he said. "As much as I hated the Crows, if I was to return home and find everyone I had known and grown up with like that…" He put his arm around my waist.

"Exactly," I said.

I looked down, he had taken my cup away. "You're going to make yourself ill. Then if we fight darkspawn tomorrow you may set yourself on fire. Or me. I wouldn't like that."

"Gimmie a second," I said, holding my hands to my head. After a few unsuccessful tries I was able to summon the correct spell. "There we go. Drunk no longer."

"You can't heal but you can sober people?" He shook his head. "You are a very strange mage."

"Learned that one out of necessity. My best friend healed me whenever I accidentally got hurt at the tower. If I was drunk, though, it was usually because he was too."

"The man from Redcliffe's dungeons?"

"That's him," I said.

"So… were it not for him, you wouldn't be here."

"No," I said. "Duncan was already there, though. He told me he wanted me in the Wardens, and was going to conscript me at Ostagar if the Circle could be convinced to send me with the army. He did then since, well, I would have been sent to the block instead of Ostagar after what I did." I chuckled. "I _wanted_ to join, really. Have for years. I've read every single book about the Grey Wardens."

"This isn't quite what you thought it would be, I take it," Zevran said.

"Being left in charge after a week? Not quite," I laughed.

"What better choice than a woman who hasn't been out of doors in two decades!"

"Exactly!" I said, cracking up at the absurdity of the situation put so clearly. "Still beats the Circle, though. I'd be dead now."

"With the rebels," Zevran said. It was a statement, not a question. I nodded.

"I suppose that's obvious. Either way, I like this better. The Wardens, they don't care if I'm a mage. Duncan told me they treat everyone the same. Just being like everyone else, that seems nice." I shrugged. "I guess that sounds silly."

Zevran chuckled and tapped a finger against the tip of his ear. "Not so silly to me," he said. "I've always thought of myself as an Antivan first, a Crow second, and an elf… oh, somewhere after 'a lover' and before 'a blonde.'" I giggled at that. "But… I would have to be an idiot not to realize the rest of the world views me quite differently. That is one kind word for the Crows, they do not subscribe to such ideas." He smirked slightly. "Actually, being an elf is to your advantage there. The Crows like to recruit elves. We can disguise ourselves as servants and slip in without a second glance, we can see better at night than humans, and, since most humans find us so attractive, it makes seducing our targets all the easier." He punctuated that statement by running a hand up my leg. I had to admit, if Zevran had decided to try and find us at an inn and talk me into bed instead of staging the ambush on the road… I would be very, very dead. Not that I'd ever admit it to _him_.

"Oh!" I laughed. "I see your plan now!" Zevran grinned at me.

"I have to thank you," I said after we fell silent for some time. "You kept me from breaking down in the tower."

He shrugged slightly. "If it were left to Alistair we would have barreled through without a moment's pause. His mind is so much on the Arl and Redcliffe that I think he often forgot you had lived there. Leliana would have wanted to stop and comfort you until some demon set us all on fire."

"Yes," I agreed. "And if I stopped too long to think I probably would have turned on Wynne and killed her."

He sighed. "Bellissima… your friend, he _was_ attacking us."

I raised my eyebrow. "What was it you said when we met? _The Grey Warden dies here? _I've never held that against you, why wouldn't someone I've known since I was a child get the same understanding? If he had known it was me, and you were all with me, he would never have attacked. I _know_ him, I can be sure of that."

"You loved him?"

I shrugged. "It may sound heartless to say no… but, no. I cared about him. He was my friend, he meant a lot to me. But I wasn't in love with him. I… that was a surprise to me." Zevran rested his hand on my leg. Staring at the tower, I sighed.

"You don't have to stay up to keep me company," he said after a moment. "I'm sure you would like to be alone right now."

"Actually, that's the _last_ thing I want," I admitted. "Although I'm probably not the best company right now."

"Your company remains as delightful as ever," Zevran said. "Although now I see I went through the trouble of setting up two tents for nothing." I smiled at him and we lapsed into silence, listening only to the crackle of the fire. "I feel I should… apologize for what happened in the Fade," he said after a moment.

"Stop," I told him. "If you _want_ to talk about it I'm happy to listen. But you don't owe me any explanation and you _definitely _don't owe me an apology. You haven't spent your entire life learning to recognize the work of demons. _Everyone_ fell for the demon's tricks, even Wynne, and she should know even better than me. They… they can get into your head. Show you want you want most, or what you fear most. Whatever they think will be the best way to trap you."

"Still, even when you arrived and told me it was a vision I did nothing to help you. I stood by—"

"And I can't blame you," I said. "That was _literally_ your worst nightmare." I wrapped my arms around him. "Almost everyone else got a happy vision, the demon decided to really mess with you. Probably because it knew you'd see through anything else too easily."

"So… even Wynne fell for it?" he said after a moment.

"Maker's breath, you have no idea," I said. "It took _forever_ to convince her. You're the only person I didn't have to argue with."

Zevran only chuckled at that. "Of course I believed you," he said after a moment. "Haven't I told you that you're the worst liar I've ever seen?"

* * *

_Ah, cavalcade of childhood issues. Bioware seems to excel at making sure everyone in your party arrives conveniently pre-traumatized by life. _  
_Thanks to all my reviewers! When I win the magic lottery I will get you all pet griffons._


	31. It didn't have to sail very high

I woke up in my tent. "Huh?"

"I had to spend the last hour of my watch with no company but your snoring."

Glancing over I could see the outline of Zevran on his side, elbow propping his head up. "I don't snore."

"You do," he insisted. "And you drooled on my shoulder. You're almost as bad as that dog of yours."

"Liar," I said, rolling to my back and stretching. "I should turn you into a toad."

He chuckled. "You told me yourself that was only a myth."

I sat up and began pulling off my robes. I had just been set on my bedroll, still fully dressed. "Well, I was lying then, or I'm lying now. You'll have to guess which." Zevran made a sound of amusement. "Where is my dog?"

"With Alistair," he said. "Dane seems to like him almost as much as he does you."

Relieved to know he wouldn't be outside all night, I chuckled and crawled under the blanket, stretching before rolling over and wrapping my arm around Zevran. He made a noise of surprise as I slid closer and began to nibble at his neck.

"What?" I asked. "You don't want to?"

"Oh no," Zevran said quickly. "You never have to worry about that with me. I'm just surprised you do."

"Why wouldn't I?" I asked.

"With all that happened..."

"Maybe I want to celebrate not being dead?" Zevran grinned at me, the faint light in the tent only revealing a brief flash of teeth. If that wasn't enough of a response, the warm hands pushing me onto my back as those same teeth scraped against my throat made his agreement very clear.

I sighed happily as his hands ran across my body. "You're warm," Zevran whispered.

"I'm always warm," I pointed out. "I think it's a Warden thing."

"Is it?" he said. "Well, no matter." I was always amazed at how quickly Zevran managed to get both of us down to bare skin. I was most of the way there already, of course, but he joined me seconds later. With a shiver and a curse that I had come to recognize as some Antivan word relating to being cold, he darted back under the blankets.

"Winter won't last forever," I assured him.

"Sorry if I have my doubts. For some reason I'm beginning to suspect your summer is not much better."

"Summer's nice," I assured him. "I left the tower in the summer. Warm. Sunny."

"I will believe that when it happens," he replied. "Now stop talking about weather!"

"You started it," I said, laughing. But, as his hands began to slide across my skin, I found the discussion of climate far less interesting. When his mouth latched onto one of my breasts I forgot the conversation completely. As he moved further down I groaned.

"Lovely," I heard him mutter, finding how wet I was when he slipped a finger into me. His tongue joined it, first swirling in a circular pattern and then, once I began moaning loudly, moving rhythmically back and forth as one strong arm held my hips steady. Momentarily forgetting we were in camp, I shrieked out Zevran's name before long. He looked up and grinned at me from between my legs, crawling further up. Kissing, we moved against each other. I had one hand tangled in his hair, the other sent a rain of tiny sparks across his back. He groaned and bit down on my shoulder.

"Is that… all right?" I asked, not sure if his reaction was happy or if I'd actually managed to hurt him.

"Mmm," he muttered against my neck. "Not sure. Do it again and I'll tell you." I did and he moaned my name while shoving my legs apart with his knees. "I think more research is needed," Zevran said before thrusting up into me. I sucked in a breath, nails digging into his back.

"Harder," I gasped, wrapping my legs over his while more magic danced across his skin. Grunting, Zevran grabbed one of my legs, hooking it over his arm. Seeing me throw my head back, crying out his name in response to that, he grabbed my other leg as well.

He sat up slightly on his knees, holding me up by my legs. I groaned as his nails dug into me. "Touch yourself," Zevran ordered. I let go of his shoulder and put my fingers between my legs. "Yes. Good," he said softly, thrusting harder.

I was panting while I ran my other hand across his chest, sparks and frost coating my fingertips. Zevran tightened his grip on my legs and growled under his breath. Shaking, my legs kicked out as I screamed, turning my head to try and muffle the sound in my pillow, and he almost dropped me. Barely managing to keep his grip on my legs, I saw his eyes close and he cried out in Antivan.

Sweating, we curled back up under the blankets. Zevran sighed and arched his back, stretching. "How well versed are you in poetry?" he asked me after a moment.

"Poetry?" I said, surprised. I rolled to my side so I could see him better, but it was so dark I might as well have had my eyes closed. He must have seen me since there was a shifting noise and I heard him digging through his bag. "Can I trouble you for some fire?" I held out my hand, summoning a tiny flame, and he lit a candle, setting it to the side of the tent. It was still dark, but no longer pitch black.

"Better?"

"Much," I said. "So… _poetry_?"

"Poetry," he reiterated. "Antivan poetry, to be specific."

"I've never read any Antivan poetry," I admitted. "So, I guess I don't know anything about it."

He sat up, blankets wrapped around his waist. In the dim light I could just make out the curved lines of his tattoos. "Well trust me," Zevran said, sounding amused. "You'll know even less after hearing this." I rolled to my back, looking up at him, finding it difficult not to grin. He seemed so amused by this, it was infectious. "A wealthy target of mine recited this poem to me some years ago." Clearing his throat dramatically, he put his hands in his lap, forcing a serious expression onto his face. "_The symphony I see in thee It whispers songs to me/ songs of hot breath upon my neck/ songs of sighs beside my head/ songs of nails dug in my back/ songs of thee come to my bed."_ Finished, Zevran looked at me for a reaction. I stared at him, dumbfounded. He raised an eyebrow at me, the candle was just bright enough to show me the subtle motion.

"Sex poetry?" I finally said, giggling.

"Apparently," he replied, lying back down. I covered my mouth, a snort escaping. "I know, I know," Zevran said. "I couldn't believe she thought this would actually convince me to spare her. I had sex with her anyways, of course, but that just goes without saying."

"Oh, of course," I said, still giggling.

"But, she still had to die. The poem was amusing at the time, though. I reacted much as you did, but always managed to remember it."

"Zev, are you trying to seduce me with poetry?"

"Hmmm…" he looked thoughtful, putting his fingertips to his mouth. "There's a thought. Would it work?"

"Of course," I said. "But I think traditionally the poem is recited _before_ the sex, not _after_, if that's the goal."

"I'll have to keep that in mind for next time," he said, now laughing with me. "I usually prefer a more tactile method of seduction," this was punctuated by running his fingertips up my side, "but variety _is_ the spice of life." Settling deeper into the blankets, Zevran wrapped an arm around me. "I only though you would be cheered by some naughty poetry after today. You looked so… unhappy earlier. Such an unflattering expression for such a lovely face."

"Lovely?" I said. All right, it was low, but now that I spent most of my time covered in blood and filth, and smelling horrible, I found that I missed being called pretty. More than I ever expected I would.

Not surprisingly, Zevran took the bait. "Of course," he said. In an overly dramatic voice he added "you're the kind of woman that stokes the lust in men and other women alike." He burst into laughter then. I deserved it, I was just fishing for hollow compliments. "But you know this and are only playing with me for more flattery."

"Maybe a bit," I admitted.

"More than a bit," he said. "But in any case… I tend to make the best of whatever situation I find myself in, stealing what moments of joy I can. It's served me well most days. You might learn to do the same."

I looked at him, thinking about that. Today was easily one of the worst days in my life, and yet I was here giggling with him, having a perfectly lovely time. "I think I do the same," I said finally.

"Oh? Then I learn something new about you every day. But I think that's _more_ than enough poetry for one night. We have a long day of traveling and killing villains ahead of us." He looked rather pleased with himself as he settled into the bedroll.

Chuckling, I raised my hand, freezing the flame on the candle so the tent wouldn't burn down in the night with us in it. "Night, Zev," I said, sliding closer to him. He didn't answer, he was already asleep.

Wynne gave me dirty looks as I took my tent down the next morning. I did my best to ignore her, occasionally glancing at Alistair whenever she looked ready to talk to me. True to his word, he'd make a point of heading her off each time, asking for some absurd favor. "But I can't fix the hole in my shirt," I heard him saying to her. "I don't know how to sew. It'll hang all wrong and my armor will rub. You don't want that to happen, do you?"

We quickly headed to the boat once awake. "There are only four cabins," Wynne said to me once we were on board. I glanced around. Alistair, Zevran, and Leliana were loading up all of our equipment since I had been talking to the captain. We would be arriving at Redcliffe early in the following morning so sleep would probably be necessary. And, since no one else was here, so would speaking to Wynne. Somehting told me she wouldn't understand Dane if I left it to him. As though sensing my discomfort he moved to sit at my side, so close his fur was pressed against my leg.

"That's fine," I said. "Zev and I will share."

Her eyes narrowed. "You're rather taken with each other, aren't you?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business," I replied quickly. Her tone of voice, and the nasty looks I'd been getting whenever the two of us so much as brushed hands in the tower made no secret of her opinion.

Wynne ignored me and continued talking. "With the way you carried on I barely got any sleep last night, how could I not notice."

"Sorry," I said dryly. "We'll keep it down tonight."

She rolled her eyes. "Well thank you," Wynne said before telling me about how Zevran "only had one thing on his mind" and that it would be "inappropriate" for a Grey Warden to involve themselves with someone like him, going on about what a clearly horrible person he was. I stared at her, shocked. She had met him one day ago and felt qualified to make a judgment like that? Even more surprising, she had managed to live in the same tower as me for years and never heard the numerous rumors about me saying much the same thing? Fuming, I ignored her. After a moment I realized she was staring at me, not saying anything else. I suppose it was my turn to respond.

"Again, I don't see how this is your business," I replied, getting more annoyed.

But no, Wynne had more to say. She started talking about responsibility. I glared at her. She was calling me _irresponsible_? I'd been shot with arrows, stabbed with swords, spent days hungry and freezing, done every single thing expected of me and more, and would end up dead in my early fifties as a thank you, and she called me _irresponsible_ because I wanted to have sex on occasion? I counted to ten, reminding myself that killing the person I hoped would keep us alive would probably be a bad idea. "Love is ultimately selfish," she went on, rambling about choosing between Zevran and my 'duty.'

_Love?_ Oh, that's rich. "As far as I'm concerned," I said through clenched teeth, "I can take every man in the Ferelden army to bed three at a time as long as I do my job during the day. Who I share my bed with is _not your business_. I'm not your daughter, and I'm not your apprentice." I could feel Dane shaking slightly next to me, he was trying not to start barking.

She looked horrified. Not too surprising, I suppose. "If talk of your responsibilities bothers you, then you are too much of a child to be in any sort of intimate rel—" Wynne said. Hearing that I saw red.

"Enough!" I snapped. With that Dane did bark, following it with a low growl. A cold breeze began to blow through the hall and I clenched and unclenched my fists, reigning in the blizzard that was threatening to form around us. Wynne must have realized how far over the line she crossed, or just didn't want to be on the receiving end of my magic. Healers, even old and powerful ones, weren't usually much of a match for someone whose only skills lay in killing things.

"I apologize if I've offended, I was just trying to point out why this affair might be a bad idea," she replied primly. I rolled my eyes. She insulted Zevran, called me selfish, and implied I was somehow bringing shame on the entire order of the Grey Wardens, and didn't actually mean to _offend_? How did she think I would respond?

I stormed off, dog at my heels, calling "tell it to someone who cares," over my shoulder.

I bumped into Zevran on the stairs to the deck. "What happened?" he asked, seeing the expression on my face. I told him about the conversation with Wynne and his eyes narrowed. "What did you tell her?"

"To shove it," I said. "Old bitch." I could hear someone walking towards the stairs. Since Wynne and I were the only ones who had been below deck it was fairly obvious who it was. With a smirk I grabbed Zevran by the collar of his armor, pulling him towards me, and kissed him. He grinned and shoved me backwards, so I was pinned between him and the wall.

"Maker's breath," I heard someone grumble. "Like children." My leg was hooked over Zevran's arm, his hand cupping my backside as we leaned against the wall.

"I'm sorry," he said to her cheerfully, breaking off our kiss but keeping his hand on me. "Did you need to get by?" With that he grabbed my other leg and shifted so I was half-sitting on one of the handrails, and stepped closer to me. "There you go."

I burst into laughter, leaning against him as Wynne stormed past us. "That was fantastic," I said. "Did you see the look on her face?"

"I did," he replied. "Like she bit into a lemon expecting it to be an orange."

"Orange?"

He stared at me. "It's… a fruit. Like a lemon, but sweet, not sour. Round and, well, orange. You've never seen an _orange_?"

"I don't think so," I said. "I've had lemon, though. We got it on First Day for our tea at breakfast in the tower."

Zevran sighed. "Once we kill your big dragon I'm taking you to Antiva so you can have some proper food."

I heard someone come running down the stairs before I could respond. We looked over to see Leliana peeking around the corner. "Oh, she lied!"

"What?" I asked.

"Wynne just ran up the stairs looking like she ate a lemon. She said the two of you were…" she giggled before going on. "_Rutting on the stairs like animals_."

"Rutting?" I said.

Zevran just laughed. "Leliana my dear," he said. "She tells you this and your first reaction is to run and look?"

She blushed and I burst out laughing. "Leave her alone, Zev. You'd do the same and you know it."

"Did I ever say I wouldn't? And so would you."

"Oh, definitely," I said, laughing. "Poor Alistair, stuck with all of us deviants."

Leliana did chuckle then, going back above deck. "It is safe, Alistair," I heard her call. "Wynne was exaggerating."

"Well that's good," I heard him say as they started stomping down the stairs. "What did you say to her?" he asked me. Zevran moved aside so I could put my feet back on the ground.

"I told her to shut up," I said. "She was sticking her nose where it doesn't belong."

"You told her more than that," he said.

I laughed. "Well… I might have told her I could screw the whole army three men at a time if I wanted as long as I got my job done. And that wouldn't be her business, either." Zevran burst out laughing, his face actually turning red as he doubled over.

"Three at a… how is that even _possible_?"

"You have no imagination, Alistair," I said. He shook his head and Zevran, fighting to get his laughter under control, leaned over whispering something in his ear.

Face red, Alistair stared at me with his jaw hanging open. "That's… Maker's breath, that's…" He shook his head. "No, we're not talking about this, and I don't even want to think about it anymore."

He wandered off to sharpen weapons or whatever it was he would do with his time during the trip. Zevran, Leliana, and I sat in the hall, dumping out our packs to go through our loot. I laughed. "Look at this!"

"What?" Zevran said.

I picked up the metal breastplate and brightly patterned tunic. "It's _templar armor_. I would have _killed_ for a set of this a year ago."

"You like it?" he said, looking surprised.

"No, I could have disguised myself to escape!"

"How much do you think we'll get for it?" Leliana asked.

"Get for it? No way. I'm holding onto this. Never know when I'll have to hide from some templars."

"Was it really so bad?" Leliana asked, sorting through a pile of amulets.

"Let me put it this way," I said. "You know how the sun feels on a nice day?"

"Of course," she said.

"Well, I didn't."

She shook her head. "That… that is not right." I shrugged. Leliana glanced up at me, looking nervous. "Is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"What Wynne said… back at the tower?" Zevran and I exchanged a quick glance. "It's true," Leliana said finally, looking sad. "Is that a good idea?"

"No changing the past," I replied. "And it's the only reason any of us are _alive_, so I'm going to go with… yeah, probably a _very_ good idea."

She shrugged. "They say such horrible things about it. I'd hate for anything to happen to you. Possession, of course… but what if some templar finds out? They would kill you!" Leliana paled. "Maker, does _Alistair_ know?"

"He does," I said. "He saw me. He wasn't, um—"

"He was furious," Zevran supplied.

"Fine now, though. Not _happy_, but he understands."

"The Wardens?" she asked.

"They allow it," I said. "I suspect they would have expected me to learn eventually. You know, if they didn't all die."

Alistair walked over, sitting between Leliana and I. "Oh, I know what we're talking about," he laughed, elbowing me.

"Purely an academic discussion," I said.

"Wynne's up on deck reading a book," he replied. I relaxed knowing she wasn't within hearing range.

Leliana looked thoughtful, pausing in the middle of folding a robe we had stolen. "I don't think there is anything in this world more evil than the darkspawn. They _say_ blood magic is evil, but if it's used to fight a far greater evil, wouldn't that make it good?"

"Maybe," I said. I understood her question, but didn't really know the answer. "I don't think I'm smart enough to figure out the answer."

"I don't think anyone is," Zevran agreed. "That sounds like a question for philosophers, not adventurers."

Leliana grinned at that. "Adventurers. Yes, I suppose we are. I like that!"

"Me too," I said.

"It is fairly exciting," Alistair said. "Like the old legends of Hafter in the second blight."

"You sound like your brother," I said, laughing. He made a face at me.

"So… what will you do if Wynne needs to heal you after…?" Leliana didn't seem ready to drop the subject.

"I don't know," I said.

"Does it _matter_ where you, um, cut yourself?" Zevran asked.

"No, I don't think so."

He shrugged, setting aside a few books for me to go through. "Well, if this is something of last resort, perhaps you will already be bleeding. As horrible as that sounds, but…"

"No, I follow," I said.

"Maker, I can't believe I'm saying this, but that's probably the best plan. Not that I advocate any of this, but, you know…"

"Well it's not like I'll be slashing my wrist to light the campfire!" I said to him. "But if we might not make it otherwise? We talked about this. It's worth the risk."

Zevran nodded in agreement. "If not," he went on, "perhaps somewhere you would be likely to get cut?"

"I should get another set of Tevnter style robes," I said. "They don't cover my arms."

"Problem solved," he said, looking pleased with himself.

"I cannot believe we had this conversation," Lelina mused. "The world has become a very strange place."

"It has," Alistair agreed.

"The world has always been a strange place," Zevran said. "Now it is simply strange for everyone, not only people like us." He chuckled, passing me a book on blood magic. "Assassin, mage, templar-prince, and bard. And two of us are Grey Wardens. I don't think anything is stranger than that. Would most people ever see _any_ of us as normal?"

"Well in Orlais…" Leliana began. Seeing the look Zevran was giving at her she giggled. "I would probably be no more normal than a Crow in Antiva."

He grinned. "Exactly. We have always been surrounded by those like ourselves. Now… we're among everyone else. In the normal world."

"I like the normal world," I said. Both of them looked at me. Alistair gave the sigh of someone who knew what was coming and I laughed. "Hey, you two snuck around rich and powerful people. I lived in a dusty old tower and never went outside. It was _boring_."

"There must be something mages do for fun," she said.

"Yeah, but how many times a day can you have sex?" She sputtered and Zevran burst into laughter, clapping his hands.

"Maker's breath," Alistair said. "You're not serious."

"I'm completely serious," I said, remembering Alistair had no experience with that sort of thing. "I mean, you can't just keep going for hours. Well, with the right spells you _can,_ but you _shouldn't. _Even with healing magic things will start to chafe. Very uncomfortable."

"And once again Maggie _completely_ misses my point," he said, shaking his head. "Just… sailed right on over her head. Probably because she's _in the gutter_ right now, it didn't have to sail very high."

"What are you talking about?" I asked him.

Leliana started to say something and Zevran cut her off. "Don't you dare," he said, still laughing. "She's far more fun like this."

The four of us sat on the floor joking for some time as we went through our loot. I watched everyone's faces as I sorted out some of the stranger items. Seeing how Alistair perked up when I examined a little statue I passed it over to him. "Really? For me?"

"Sure," I shrugged. He grinned and held it up. I wasn't sure, but I think I caught him pretending to make it walk out of the corner of my eye. He also ended up with a couple of small runestones, Leliana with several items engraved with Chantry symbols and Zevran, for reasons I couldn't quite figure out, liked a bar of silver I'd found in Orzammar and one of gold I'd stolen from Irving's office in the tower. I wouldn't have expected it, but the way his eyes followed them as I picked each up made it quite obvious.

"All right," I said once everything had been examined. "These things we sell first chance we get. The rest we keep. If you need anything keep it in mind."

"I need new socks," Alistair said. Zevran made a sound of agreement.

"I suspect we _all_ need new socks," Leliana said. "We haven't bought any since before Orzammar."

"Boots all right?" I asked. No one had any complaints. I'd have to ask the others when we rejoined them. I glanced at Dane. "New collar?" he barked in the affirmative. "All right, let me see." I looked, the leather was cracked and, in one spot, almost ripped in half. "Yeah, you're right." He barked again.

"I still don't understand how you know what he's saying," Zevran mused, shaking his head. " And, we should get some blankets."

"It was _freezing_ last night," Alistair agreed. "I could see my breath in my tent!"

"We shouldn't even be sleeping in tents," Leliana said. "It is too cold, it's not safe. We could freeze in our sleep!"

I sighed, nodding. I had been painfully cold, and when I woke my hands and feet hurt and were a less than healthy shade of grey. And I was better off than the others, since Zevran and I kept each other warm at least to some degree. "We should try and stay in inns for the rest of winter," I said with frustration.

"Can we afford it?" Alistair asked.

"No," I said. "But we can't afford freezing to death, either."

"Perhaps some innkeeper would let me sing in exchange for a discount on rooms?" Leliana mused. "Orlesian minstrels are very popular, even in Ferelden."

"Maybe," I agreed. "I wish I had some useful skill to offer, but not many people will hire me to kill things."

Leliana shrugged. "It is something I enjoy. I would sing and tell stories for free quite happily. If I can get us warm beds, well, all the better."

As our conversation came to an end I boxed up everything we would sell. I wished I could have guessed what we would get for it all, but I was still confounded by how things were priced. Part of me winced at giving everyone what looked to be slightly expensive presents, with items in my pack for the others, but it seemed worth it. No one was having an easy time, and it made them happy. And it wasn't like I had found books in the tower that I planned to keep, despite knowing they were probably worth a fortune.

After dinner the captain of the ship offered us his cabin briefly so we could all clean up. I was too grateful for a chance to wash off to be offended. He was only doing so because we were all visibly filthy, and probably smelly as well. Not that I could tell, I was so used to it at this point. He just didn't want us getting into the beds like that.

It was nice to be clean, though, and made me appreciate the clean sheets all the more. Even the rocking of the boat was pleasant. Zevran climbed in next to me, smelling of soap. I was amazed he didn't complain that I let the dog sleep on the floor, but maybe he thought the extra warmth would be worthwhile. Although he didn't ask, I poured out my worries about entering the fade the next day. He made small sounds of understanding, the arm around me running up and down my bare arm. "Is there anything _we_ can do," he said finally. "Any sign you might give to show there is a problem, so we can… get you out?"

"No," I sighed. "I won't move at all while I'm in there. I'll probably look dead to you. Wynne or Morrigan will be able to tell if I'm alive or not, though." He nodded. "If you hear them say anything about sending someone else in if… something goes wrong, try and make sure it's Wynne. Or one of the Circle mages. Not Morrigan."

"You don't trust her?" He looked surprised. "You and Morrigan, I thought you were close. I see you laughing together all the time. It is… very disturbing to poor Alistair. He thinks it is a mage conspiracy."

I chuckled and propped myself up on one elbow. "No, of course I trust her. I don't want them to _kill her_. She's an adult apostate, that's what templars do to them, you know. She needs to do everything she can to hide her magic until they're gone."

"They are bringing templars?"

"I'd be surprised if the templars let them leave without guards."

"What do you mean by 'if something goes wrong'?"

"Well… mostly, if I die," I said, not wanting to mince words.

Zevran was silent for a time. "I knew we should have just killed the boy immediately," he said eventually, before blowing out the small lantern next to the bed.

* * *

_At last, an update! Sorry for the horrid delay. School's a killer this semester. Thanks so much to everyone reading and reviewing!_


	32. I'm tempted to learn Antivan

I wasn't sure what to expect when we got off the ship at the castle's private docks. There was a lot of smoke coming from the village, but I suspected pyres were still going from the fighting before we'd left. To my surprise, Morrigan was waiting at the docks.

"I take it you are responsible for the boat full of leashed mages which arrived last night?" she asked. "I could not get away from them fast enough. Their stares were most irritating." Wynne's head snapped to attention and she gaped at our companion.

I quickly summarized what had happened over the last few days once I had been assured that the demon remained dormant while we were gone. "Wynne's a bitch, but she's the best healer in the tower," I whispered to her. "That's the only reason she's here and not _dead_."

"It sounds as though there is a story in that," she said, shaking her head. "Beyond your… otherwise eventful homecoming."

"There is," I agreed, still whispering, our heads inclined together. "If I don't end up killed by the demon I'll tell you next time we make camp."

"Your _adviser_ is an _apostate?_" Wynne said, horrified, as we followed Morrigan inside.

"What?" I replied, playing dumb. From the moment she saw Morrigan I had expected her to say something, after all. "Don't be absurd. Dane is my adviser!" The dog barked and I scratched behind his ears. "Aren't you, boy! _The apostate's_ my hairdresser. And her name is Morrigan, not 'the apostate.'"

Morrigan scoffed at that. "Please, do not tell anyone I am responsible for your hair," she said. "Just last week I watched you cut it with one of Zevran's daggers."

"I don't have scissors," I said.

"I like your hair," Leliana said. "It's simple, but it suits you. Not like the elaborate styles we wore in Orlais." With that she drifted off, a dreamy look on her face as she told me about someone who had her hair styled around a birdcage- with a real bird inside.

"You're kidding me!" I said as we walked inside.

"I am not!" Leliana insisted. "Poor bird was terrified. And if you didn't know, terrified birdies have loose bowels."

I burst out laughing. "That's bloody disgusting! Poor bird! I'd feel bad for the woman but, well, she was the one wearing a live animal in her hair!"

Wynne muttered something under her breath about children. I made a jabbering motion with my hand, rolling my eyes.

We walked into the castle as a group. I saw Irving and several other senior mages in the main hall when we entered. Morrigan, at my insistence, went to wait for us in a side room. Unsurprisingly there were two templars standing against the wall. Both snapped to attention, turning to look at me when we entered. "All right," I said to Irving. "Let's get this done."

He nodded and I sat on the floor, throwing Zevran a pointed glance. "I know," he said. I nodded and settled into what I hoped was a position that wouldn't lend itself to any embarrassing falls or muscle aches from being still too long before reaching for the lyrium.

The world dropped away.

"I hate the stupid fade," I muttered, stomping along the narrow path. A door hovered above me, several warped chairs not far from it. I could hear a man yelling and followed the noise.

There were dozens of shades wandering the paths with me, but nothing dangerous so far. Eventually I found the source of the yelling. "Connor!" screamed an old man with an enormous beard.

"Arl Eamon?" I asked. "Or a demon?"

"Why would you ask me such a thing?" he demanded. "Of course I'm Arl Eamon. Where is my son? I hear him calling for me, I run to find him, but he's never there. Where is Isolde? Why am I here?"

"Your son tried making a bargain with a demon to help you, he's possessed," I said. "This is the fade, the realm of dreams and spirits."

"Possessed?" he said, horrified. "But… we must help him! Is that why you're here?"

I sighed. He was utterly useless. He didn't even know _where_ he was. "Yes, I'm here to help," I said, to end the conversation. "Trust me."

That seemed to satisfy him. He assured me he did trust me and began rambling about his son more.

Leaving him to his madness, I walked in the direction of most of the shades. Eventually I came upon a twisted version of a child's room, a young boy standing in it. He accused me of poisoning his father before I could say a word. I regarded him cautiously. Connor was possessed, but not an abomination. He _shouldn't _be trapped here. Not unless he was sleeping, and the odds me being able to get into his dreams without making an effort was slim to none.

"Right," I sighed. "You're the guardian of this realm, here to confuse."

He shouted at me, something about not allowing me to hurt his father. I did my best to block out his words. Listening to demons was never a good idea. And, of course, seconds later that's exactly what stood in front of me.

"Maker's breath," I muttered, freezing a weak rage abomination and killing it with a single spell. "Get a bloody shirt, would you?" The desire demon howled in pain as I struck her with lightning, vanishing instantly.

Apparently I had to hunt her down _again_. And, as it turned out after I watched her vanish a second time, again. And _again_.

"Oh, come _on_," I yelled as she vanished the third time. "Just fight me and be done with it!"

Continuing on, I made my way to a clearing. "Where are you?" I shouted.

"Very well," said a silky voice. "No more illusions. You stand in my domain and look on my true form." I raised an eyebrow. The demon was _literally_ groping herself as she spoke to me. We circled each other slowly, magic surrounding both of us. "It is here I am the most powerful, but I have no wish to fight you," she said. "And you should not be so eager to fight me."

"I'm not about to bargain with your kind," I said, pulling my staff from my back.

"A shame," she went on, making no move to attack. I waited, wanting to see what sort of magic she would use before I decided on my own strategy. My shields were strong, one strike wouldn't put me out. "I possess the boy's soul," she went on. "There was something he desired, and I provided it. It was a fair deal, an honest deal."

"With a child who had no idea what you were," I replied.

"Child, adult, everyone has desires," she said. "What of you? Power? Something to increase your talent? Or would it be knowledge? Secret spells no darkspawn could counter. Perhaps love? I could give you the heart of your tattooed elf."

"That's the _best_ you can do?" I said. "How does _anyone_ fall for that?" Really, offering to teach me 'secret spells' I already knew thanks to Jowan, or some fake perversion of love that would only add more complications to my already screwed up life? Wow, how appealing. That would be completely worth turning myself into an abomination. As for power, well… it's a demon. Odds are I'd wake up and have nothing more than a shiny new lyrium potion to show for the cost of my soul.

Not bothering to wait anymore, I cast ice, freezing her in place, and followed it with lightning. She vanished, and I was surrounded by a circle of demons. Every time I hit one with a spell it would vanish.

"What's wrong," I taunted, swinging around to freeze a demon behind me. "Afraid to face me in an honest fight?"

Apparently I was right, since she continued to attack me with duplicates and hide herself for what felt like hours. The only reason I was able to keep going was a large lyrium deposit not far from where I had been standing. I wouldn't resort to… anything else. Not when I was surrounded by templars and circle mages. Who knew what they could sense from that side.

Finally, the demon gave a cry and flopped backwards. I sank to my knees, too exhausted to celebrate the victory. After a moment I was able to catch my breath and stand again, walking to the lyrium vein so I would have enough power to summon a portal out.

Stepping through, I groaned, just as exhausted in the real world as I'd been in the Fade. "It's dead," I muttered, opening my eyes. I could hear several sighs of relief. A child was crying in the distance, Isolde screamed her son's name before storming from the room after him.

The mages left almost immediately, under the watchful eyes of the templars. I ignored the dirty looks I got from both of their guards. They clearly didn't like having to leave me here. The tempalrs would be getting Connor later, once the tower was… well, once it was free of dead bodies. Alistair was talking to Bann Teagan as I sat on the floor, staring numbly forward.

"He is trying to convince the Bann that we deserve comfortable rooms for the night. The problem, from what I can tell, is all he maids have run off or been killed. And Isolde wants us to leave. More the latter, and it is her home, not his."

"Why would we need maids?" I wondered. Zevran nodded in agreement, sitting next to me.

"You were right," he said. I raised an eyebrow, stifling a yawn. "You did look dead. Highly disturbing."

"Yeah," I nodded. "That's what they say. It wasn't _as_ bad as I expected."

"No?"

"Not really," I said. "I was stronger. She could only try to wear me down until I was too tired to fight back. Almost worked."

"Do they really make offers?" he asked.

"Sure," I said. "I don't see how any adult falls for it, though. I mean, it's all illusions. They could make someone love you, make people respect you, give you knowledge, and they offer it all. But it would never be real… just the demon's tricks. They could give you talent, but even that isn't you, it's all fakery."

He nodded. Alistair returned before we could say more, to tell us that we had been offered rooms for the night.

"The night?" I asked. We arrived not long before breakfast.

"Well, it's not dark yet, but we won't even make it to the village by the time it is," Alistair said. I guess I was in the fade longer than I thought. No wonder I felt like I could sleep for a week. Surprising the templars didn't kill me while I was gone, if it had been that long.

"Food?" I asked. He nodded. "Good," I said. "I feel like I could eat an entire sheep by myself."

"I don't think they'll serve us mutton," he said. "We're not nearly important enough for meat."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, we only saved the kid's life. Who do we think we are, asking for _food." _

"She has a point," Zevran said. "Whatever the… arlessa may feel about _you_, we're the ones who saved the town when she would have allowed it to be destroyed, and Maggie saved her son." He made a face. "She is truly a horrid woman, though, isn't she? I suspect she didn't really care if any of the villagers lived or died."

Alistair sighed. "She won't see it that way. We're commoners to her."

"You're the son of a king and she can drop dead for all I care," I said. "And for all she knows my parents outranked hers. No one knows where mages came from, and she should know by now they're not only born to freeholders and peasants."

"_Did_ your parents outrank her?" Alistair said, surprised.

I laughed. "My parents were farmers. I think. I remember cows. But _she _doesn't know that. And they had damn well better feed us something good. I've never eaten in a castle before. My entire opinion of them will be determined by whatever I'm served tonight. They could destroy all my beliefs about the Ferelden nobility. Wouldn't want that." Zevran laughed as Alistair rolled his eyes. "And the way I feel I'd barely complain if it was genlock. But it had better _not_ be genlock."

"Ew," Alistair said. I managed a laugh at that, slowly climbing to my feet.

It turned out there _would _be mutton. I sighed happily smelling the food from the kitchen. We were served in a small dining room, one I suspected would normally be used by the servants. I didn't care. The food was hot, delicious, and didn't spend weeks at the bottom of someone's pack. After we ate a nervous looking maid showed us to our rooms. Once again, I suspected Isolde had put us in servant, not guest, quarters. It was a bed, though, with warm blankets and pillows. That was more than enough for me.

I think I was asleep before Zevran even had both his boots off.

I woke with a start, gasping. I could hear a chuckle and peeked under the blankets. Zevran smirked up at me from between my thighs. "Did I wake you?" he said.

"Uh, kinda," I said, still a bit disoriented.

"Shall I stop?" he asked, his tongue flicking against me without waiting for an answer.

"Maker, no," I managed. "Don't stop!"

It was almost an hour before we managed to drag ourselves from the bed and get dressed. "I hope you didn't mind," he said, pulling his boots on. "I thought if _I _was getting tired of watching your nightmares scare you awake every day, you were probably even more tired of living through it. That seemed… more fun."

_"Definitely _more fun," I agreed. "Although I suspect we woke half the castle."

"You have such a nice scream. I'm sure they enjoyed it."

I laughed, tightening the laces on my robes. "At least they could _understand_ me. I'm tempted to learn Antivan just so I know what you're saying."

"It is nothing that exciting," he said.

"Is it at least flattering?"

"Oh, very," Zevran said. "But… most of it would probably sound rather crude if I translated."

"Yeah, because I was reciting poetry," I said, elbowing him. He pulled me to my feet, chuckling, and we left to look for the others.

"You missed breakfast!" Leliana called, seeing us. "I made sure they saved you some. It didn't sound like you would want us to… interrupt." She leaned towards me. "That was after I explained to Alistair that a woman shouting to the Maker is not always in need of rescue."

I burst out laughing, doubled over. When she told Zevran what I'd found so funny he offered a cocky grin. "Wow," I said after a moment. "Do… do you think we need to explain where babies come from to him?"

"Maybe," she said, giggling. "I would rather not, though. I think he would blush so much his heart would stop from lack of blood!"

Zevran and I went to the dining room where two plates were indeed set aside. Eating alone, he entertained me with the story of when he was part of a large plan to assassinate a prince. "You had to walk _naked_ through the city?" I laughed.

"I did," he said. "After I fell in the river the urchins who pulled me out didn't even leave me my boots. Ah, I loved those boots."

"The boots you have now are nice," I said.

Zevran made a face. "I got these in Ferelden," he said contemptuously. "Even your boots look to be from the Imperium."

"That's different," I said. "These are enchanted for a mage. Everything like that comes from Tevinter."

He waved a hand dismissively, staring at his feet. "These wouldn't be fit for a dog in Antiva." I raised my eyebrow as Dane barked. "More than anything," Zevran said, "I miss the _leather_ from home."

"The _leather_," I said. "If I didn't know better I'd swear you were setting up a dirty joke."

"I could," he said. "And perhaps later… but no, I am being very serious now." I listened to him talk about an apartment he lived in, over a tanner. I suppose one could get used to anything, but even I knew how bad those smelled… "Just before I left I saw the most stunning boots in a shop window," he said. "I wanted them, and promised as soon as I returned to Antiva I would buy them. A reward, of sorts, for a job well done."

"The whole 'killing me' job?" I said, chuckling.

"Yes, that would be the one," he grinned.

"They may still be there," I said. "You can always get them later."

"Perhaps," he said. "It's a comforting thought. Life is unpredictable… how would I have known I would end up defeated by a beautiful Grey Warden, a woman who then spares my life?"

"Flatterer."

Zevran put a hand over his heart, a look of pain on his face. "You wound me! I say you are beautiful because it is true! Would you rather I not?"

I giggled at his performance. "No, by all means," I said.

"Glad I am to hear it," he announced, finishing off his bread and downing the last of his ale. "But I'd rather not talk of Antiva any longer. It makes me hungry for a proper meal." Zevran sighed, looking at the plate. "Brown bread and cheese, with ale. For breakfast. Horrifying."

"They're feeding us the servant's food," I said. "I bet you anything this isn't what Isolde ate." He made a snort of contempt. "At least it's not potage," I said.

"I don't know what that is," Zevran replied.

"Hope you never do," I answered. "Alistair made it… once. I told him if he did again I'd turn the pot over on his head. It's like… everything. He bought it already made. It's this dried… chunk. Grains and vegetables and all sorts of things, all mashed up. Then you wet it down and heat it. So gross."

"That is utterly horrifying," Zevran said. I nodded. "And you ate this?"

"Maker, no," I said. "I ate his secret stash of cheese from his pack. I had one bite of that and spit it out. _Dane_ wouldn't even touch it."

"I think I would actually kill for a bowl of proper fish stew," Zevran mused.

"Zev, you're a professional assassin. That isn't saying much."

"True enough." He grinned at me and we went off to find the others.

"Bann Teagan wants to talk to you," Alistair said when we found the rest of our group sitting in the main hall. "He's upstairs in the Arl's room with Isolde."

"Just me?" I said.

"Well, Isolde evidently doesn't want me there," Alistair sighed.

I narrowed my eyes. "I see." Well, now would be the perfect time to let her know just what I thought of her since Alistair wouldn't be there to put a hand over my mouth.

Alistair groaned. "Mags, be nice."

I giggled. "Jowan used to call me that," I told him. "Usually when he didn't want me to do something he knew I'd do anyways."

"It disturbs me how much I would apparently get along with a maleficar," Alistair mused. I raised my eyebrows at him, grinning. "I was _trying _to forget that," he said. "But try and make it quick, there's something I want to talk to you about when we get out of here." He must have seen the look of worry on my face. I didn't want another 'how could you learn blood magic!' screaming match. "No, nothing bad," Alistair assured me. "I just want to get out of here before I say anything. Too many memories."

Nodding, I went off in the direction he indicated, quickly finding the stairs. While walking through the castle I couldn't help but slip a few small odds and ends into my pockets. If Isolde wanted to compensate us for saving her son's life by serving us the help's food, which was probably because most of the staff was dead and it would go bad otherwise, I'd find another way to make sure we were properly paid. And I hated her. Well, more that I hated her, if I had to pick one.

I saw a familiar looking little boy in one of the bedrooms on the top floor. On impulse, I knocked on his open doorframe. He put down the book he was reading and looked over. "Do I know you?"

"Not exactly," I said.

Connor looked at me more closely, his eyes drifting up to the staff on my back. "You're the one who saved me," he said after a moment. I nodded. "Then… thank you. My father always told me it was important to thank people who do nice things for you."

"No need to thank me," I said. "I wanted to see how you were doing. Do you remember anything?"

"I remember… a bad dream," he said, looking confused. "And then there was a scary lady." He dropped his voice and blushed. "She didn't have very many clothes on!" I couldn't help but giggle a little at that. "But then she went away."

"She won't be back," I promised him.

He nodded. "They said I have to go soon. To live somewhere called… the _Circle."_

"You will," I said, sitting back on my heels so we were on eye level. "You're a mage. Like me. They'll teach you how to cast spells and use your talents."

"But I can't stay at home with mother and father?" he said. "I can't come back after?"

"No," I said, kneeling. "You won't be able to. It's the law, all mages have to live in the Circle."

"You don't," he said.

"No, but I used to. I'm a Grey Warden now, we're… special."

"They lock mages up because they're wicked and evil," he said, pouting. "That's what mother says. I don't _want_ to be a mage. I don't _want_ to be wicked and evil."

I resisted the urge to find Isolde and burn her alive. Sighing, I took a breath, counting to ten in my mind. "Do you think I'm evil?" I asked him.

He stared at me. "No," Connor said after a moment. "You saved me from the scary lady. _She_ was evil."

I nodded. "People say mean things like that because they're afraid of us. We can do things they can't, and because they don't understand it they lock us in the Circle."

"But it isn't evil?"

"The Maker made you this way, why would He _make_ you evil? Does that make sense?"

"No," Connor said after a moment. "It doesn't."

"You may like the Circle," I said, lying through my teeth. "There will be lots of boys and girls your age there to play with. You'll make a lot of friends."

"Really?"

I nodded. "That's where every human or elf with magic goes, from all over Ferelden. You'll get to meet all sorts of different people. It'll be very exciting."

"I guess that does sound fun," he said after a moment, starting to smile. "Will they give me a staff?"

"Eventually," I said. "When you're older. You get robes right away, though."

"Ooh," he said, sounding somewhat excited. "And they'll teach me to… shoot lightning and stuff?"

"And heal injuries," I said. It probably wouldn't do for the formerly possessed boy to start running around wanting to kill things… well, not _right _away.

'Oh, that's right," he said. "Magic heals. Healing people can't be evil, can it? That would be silly."

"See?" I said.

Pleased, he went back to his book, looking far more cheerful when I left than he had when I arrived. _Poor kid_, was all I could think.

I walked down the hall to the master bedroom, where Bann Teagan was pacing the floor. Isolde sat next to the bed. The same confused man I'd met in the fade was still under the blankets. A healer I vaguely recognized from the tower sat in the corner, reading a book. He glanced up and nodded at me, I returned the gesture.

"So it is done," Teagan said when I entered. "The demon is dead. Connor is his old self," Teagan said. "He doesn't seem to remember anything, which is a blessing."

"It is," I agreed. "Although he _does_ seem to remember his mother calling mages _wicked _and _evil, _something she apparently did with great frequency. It seems to be troubling him greatly. I can't imagine why." I rolled my eyes and Teagan turned to look at Isolde, who was staring at her knees. "You may want to tell him you were wrong about that _my lady_," I sneered over Teagan's shoulder. "So he doesn't spend the rest of his life believing his mother hates him for something he has no control over. Unless, that is, you do."

"How dare you!" she snapped.

"Right, of course," I said, sighing. "_I _was just doing my best to try and to convince _your son_ he isn't evil since everything you've told him makes him think he is, but _I'm_ the bitch. How could I miss that?" The healer in the corner coughed, a hand over his mouth. His face was turning red as he tried not to laugh.

"My grandfather was a mage," Isolde said, more to herself than any of us. "He was the most wicked man I've ever met. Cruel and heartless. He cared for nothing but his own power. I do not want my son to be like that."

"Were all the men in your family like that?"

"Of course not," she said.

I shrugged. "Then why assume all mages are? Makes about as much sense."

"Perhaps," she said. "But the chantry says—"

"Isolde!" Teagan said, interrupting her. "Your _son_ is a mage. Do you _want_ him to leave for the Circle believing his own mother has rejected him?"

She looked up at him and nodded. "You're right," she said. "I will speak with him soon."

"There is still the matter of Eamon," Teagan said. "He remains in a coma." Well, clearly. The unconsciousness on the bed was a big clue.

"The Urn!" Isolde shrieked, jumping to her feet. "The Urn of Sacred Ashes! That can save him."

"You're kidding me," I sighed. "You might as well look for a unicorn horn or phoenix egg. It's a myth!"

Teagan grinned slightly at that. "I would have agreed with you about that at one point," he said. "But there is a reason we think this may be an option."

Isolde nodded. "Eamon was funding a scholar in Denerim, he had been studying the inscriptions on Andraste's Birth Rock. We think he may have found the urn, but when I sent some of the knights to find Brother Genitivi at his home none were able to."

"Brother Genitivi?" I said, surprised.

"You know the man?" Teagan said, surprised.

"Well, not personally," I said. "But I've read most of his works. He's very well respected."

"So you see why we think this may be a possibility, then!" Teagan said, sounding relieved.

I nodded, surprised. I couldn't see the country's foremost historian chasing after a wild legend unless he thought there was some truth to it. "What is his address in Denerim? I'll see what we can do."

He quickly wrote it out for me, I put it carefully into one of my pockets once the ink had dried. "So Alistair is really a Grey Warden?" Teagan said, sounding surprised.

I nodded. "Much better than ending up a templar," I said. "But…"

"But?"

"But neither seems to be at all appropriate for a son of King Maric," I said. "He's the last bloody descendant of Calenhad and he spends his days stomping through the much and filth, killing unholy monsters, and sleeping on the cold ground in a tent." I shook my head, continuing the performance. "I've always been very patriotic but let me tell you, my respect for the late king has diminished _greatly_ knowing how poorly he saw to his own child. Bastard or no, Alistair was his blood and he abandoned him to a life of suffering and hardship. Who would do such a thing?"

Teagan shifted uncomfortably, looking at his shoes. Isolde stared at me, mouth open. "He is what?"

"A Grey Warden?" I said, not sure how she missed that.

"Not _that!"_ she insisted. "Before… his father was… _King Maric_!"

"Well, yeah," I said. "Maker's breath, just look at him. Grow his hair out and he'd look like he stepped right from a painting of the coronation. I don't know how I didn't see it immediately, he looks so much like poor King Cailan, Maker rest his soul."

She closed her eyes for a moment. "You're right," she said. "He is the very image of the late king, of both of them. How… I..." She sat down, looking horrified. "I was never told."

"Bloody awful, isn't it?" I said, acting oblivious. "Sending a child of royal blood to the _Chantry_ of all things… I can't even imagine." She nodded mutely and I excused myself, thanking Teagan when he muttered something vague about wishing us luck.

And with that I left, giggling to myself as I bounced down the stairs.

* * *

_There has been much DRAMA and ANGST in AOA as of late... and a bit seeped into here with the Circle quest. So I thought something a bit more fun was in order. Like Maggie playing with Isolde's head. Someone on BSN commented that they think she never would have sent Alistair away if she knew who his father was. As a very young woman, and one from a culture that loves tales and stories, a bastard prince would have probably seemed quite exciting and romantic to her. That makes a good deal of sense to me, which would mean Eamon never told her.  
And it always bugged me that a mage Warden couldn't say something semi-comforting to Connor.  
Oh, and potage? A real thing, and about ten times more gross than she describes it to be.  
As always, thank you so much to everyone reading and reviewing!_


	33. Which of us is 'the pretty one' ?

"So we have to go to Denerim," I said as we hiked out of Redcliffe, heading along the shore of Lake Calenhad.

"Why?" Alistair said.

"You know her crazy search for the Sacred Ashes?" he nodded. "Well, maybe it's not _that_ crazy." Alistair raised an eyebrow at me. "Brother Genitivi was doing the research for it."

"I've heard of him," Alistair said. "I love his _A History of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden_. I think I read it a dozen times. The very best part was—"

"When they joined Hafter in the second blight?" I supplied.

"Yes!" he replied quickly. "You've read it?

"I've practically _memorized _it!" I said, grinning. "So you see what I mean?"

He nodded. "He's the Chantry's top historian in Ferelden. I can't see him being involved if it was just Isolde with her head in the clouds." He paused, dropping his voice. "What did you say to her?"

"Nothing!"

"Zevran's right, you are a horrible liar," he said. "What did you say?"

"I basically called her a bitch," I admitted. "That wasn't the plan… but then I talked to Connor."

"What happened?"

I sighed. "I just wanted to ask him how he was doing. And I ended up trying to convince him he isn't _evil_. Since he's been told mages are locked away for being wicked and evil his whole damn life."

"Why?" Alistair said, shocked. "I mean… how would that even come up in conversation with a child? Eat your vegetables and mages are wicked? That makes no sense!"

"Isolde's grandfather was a mage," I said quietly. "Not a very nice person, apparently."

"And from that she got '_all_ mages are wicked and evil'?"

"No, she got _that_ from the damned Chantry," I snorted. "She just took one mage being an ass as confirmation that all of us are, apparently."

"So… you called the _Arlessa of Redcliffe_ a bitch?" He sounded both amused and horrified.

"Yep," I said. "She deserved it."

"What else?" Alistair asked.

"Um…"

"Maggie…" he said, attempting to sound threatening. "Tell me."

"Well," I said, pushing my hair from my eyes. "I… might have mentioned how I, as a patriotic citizen of Ferelden, found it deplorable that someone would…"

"_Maggie_," he repeated when I trailed off.

"That someone would fob off King Maric's son on the chantry," I said quickly, stepping back from him.

"Maker's breath," he groaned. "See! _See! _ This is _exactly_ why I didn't want to tell you. I knew you would make some sort of… _thing_ out of it!"

"It had to be said," I replied.

"Why!"

"Because she _didn't know!_" I said. "She had _no_ idea. Eamon _never told her_." His steps faltered for a moment. "She agreed with me," I added.

"He didn't _tell_ her?"

"Nope."

Alistair was quiet for a moment. "I thought she knew," he said finally. "I always blamed her. I thought she knew and wanted me gone anyways, just because of the rumors… Not that she _honestly_ thought I was his. I thought he told her who my father was."

"Nope," I said. "He never told her."

"Oh," was all he said. The expression on his face made it clear he didn't want to talk about it any further.

We continued on, the sun reflecting off nearby snow enough to keep us warm. I could hear Morrigan and Zevran talking behind us, and Wynne with Leliana. Oghren was singing to himself and Sten grunting in annoyance at all of us.

_"That is wily of you, Zevran," _Morrigan was saying. _"Getting in the good graces of the one who decides whether you live or die. Not to mention the one who can protect you against your former comrades."_

_"And I am supposed to believe you are here because of a... sense of patriotism, perhaps, o magical temptress?"_ he sounded amused. Morrigan laughed at the very idea. _"We all have our reasons for doing what we do. Mine happen to come with a set of lovely eyes."_

I grinned to hear that, Alistair shook off his bad mood hearing them, elbowing me and chuckling quietly. "So, this actually is good," he said after a moment.

"Oh?" I wasn't sure _what_ he thought was good, but I couldn't imagine it was at all related to Isolde.

"Well, I said I wanted to talk to you? There's someone in Denerim I'd like to go see."

"Really?" I said. "Anyone fun?"

"Maybe?" he shrugged. "Not sure. I've never actually met them. But… well, my mother, she had a daughter. Before she had me. Her name is Goldanna, and I guess she lives in Denerim. So, she's kind of… my sister. Do you think we could go see her?"

"Sure," I said. "That sounds like a great idea." He looked nervous and relieved all at once. It was really a very impressive feat of facial expressions. "Worried?"

"A bit," Alistair admitted. "I've never even spoken to her. What if she doesn't like me?"

"Why wouldn't she?" I said. "I mean, unless she's an apostate. That might make her a bit wary."

"No, I don't think she's an apostate," he laughed. "You're sure we have time?"

I wasn't sure, to be honest. But I also wasn't sure finding time would even be an _issue_ later, as I had no idea if we would still be alive from day to day. If he didn't see her now, well, there might not be another chance while they were both still breathing. "Sure," I said quickly. Alistair grinned, looking relieved.

We happened to pass a traveling merchant as we headed north. "Where did you get all of that?" Alistair asked as we unloaded everything looted from both the tower and Redcliffe castle.

"Presents," I said quickly. Zevran snorted.

"_Presents?_ From who?"

"Yep," I replied. "From friends. And well wishers."

"Friends and well wishers?" Alistair said, clearly not believing me. "You mean you stole it." Wynne gasped in horror.

"What?" I said. "Alistair, I'm shocked you would say such a thing!" He sighed, shaking his head. "Look, he's got some nice veridium boots. See if they fit you." Forgetting the argument, he sat down, yanking his own battered boots off and trying on the new ones.

"Hey Warden," Oghren shouted. Alistair and I both looked at him.

"Narrow it down a bit?" Alistair said.

"Not _you_, the boss." I laughed at the expression on Alistair's face as I walked over to see what he wanted. Oghren had been chatting with the merchant while I pawed though his wares. "Look at this," Oghren said, holding out a carved stone rod, glowing with inlaid lyrium in a pattern of unfamiliar runes.

"A stone?"

"A _control rod_," he said. "For a golem. Just sitting there, in some town down south. You know who could use the help of a golem? _Us_."

"I don't know," I said, thinking of Carridan. "You know how they're made…"

Oghren rolled his eyes. "Will being weepy turn him into a dwarf again? He's a golem, now and forever. Why not get some use out of him? The volunteers did it so they could fight the darkspawn, after all; it's what he would want anyways."

He had a good point. "How much?" I asked the merchant, expecting a laughable price.

"Just take it," he said. "My mule's run off, there's a blight… I don't have time to go chasing after some golem in the south. I need to get north before the darkspawn catch up to me!" Well, it was within our budget. Thanking him, I took the rod and called Leliana over to mark the town on our map.

"How far is it?" I asked her.

"A few days walk, at least," she said, adding "in the direction we just came from" after a moment.

"We have to come back this way after we talk to Brother Genitivi in Denerim, we can check then instead of going back now." A golem would come in useful. But, it was winter, and I'd prefer to put off any trips to the south until spring.

"Pretty far," Alistair said, glancing at the map. "Probably buried under snow." Echoing my thoughts he added "better to wait until spring." We continued on to Denerim.

That night at camp I went through the books we had taken from the tower, deciding which I would keep. Some were spellbooks, others leaning more towards the philosophical or ethical side of the spectrum. One didn't seem to be either sort, though. "Look at this," I said to Zevran.

"You want _my _advice about magic," he said, sounding amused.

"I want your advice on language," I said. "Since this doesn't look like any written language _I've_ ever seen."

He did glance over then. "Nor I," Zevran said after a moment. "Not that I could claim to be a master of linguistics, but I can confirm it is certainly not Antivan or Orlesian. I don't speak the languages of Nevarra or Rivain, but I do know they use the same alphabet, so it wouldn't be theirs, either."

"I've seen some of Sten's writing," I said. "He doesn't seem to use the same alphabet as us, but this isn't like his, either."

"It looks… primitive," Zevran said after a moment. "The illustrations there, the art is very old fashioned."

I nodded. "Maybe Morrigan will have an idea," I said. "She's learned a lot of things I haven't from her mother." He shrugged and I got up, walking across camp to Morrigan's private fire. She greeted me and gestured to a spot not far from her on the ground.

"So… remember a few months ago, when we were talking about skills one could learn from demons, and I said if an alternate method of instruction should present itself—"

"Your friend in the dungeon," she said.

I nodded. "Jowan," I whispered.

"I suspected that was your goal," she said. "You looked like you were plotting something."

"I ended up needing it in the tower," I said, describing our trip through the fade in greater detail. She didn't look shocked, until I told her about Wynne's accusations.

"And yet you still welcomed her to join us?"

"Will you learn healing?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I have no aptitude for it," she said quietly. "I have tried. I can perform the basic healing spells but… perhaps it is something in my temperament. The more complex spells elude me."

"I'm the same way," I said. "So… there you go. We need a healer. You know we barely got Alistair back together in the Deep Roads. What if that happened again? What if it was more than one person, or if it was one of us and the other had to do the healing on their own? I don't think we could."

She sighed in resignation, apparently agreeing with my assessment. "But, that wasn't the point I had. I was going to tell you, if you want me to teach you—"

"No," she said quickly. "No, that is… not necessary. I thank you for the offer but—"

"Got it," I replied, not wanting to make her any more uncomfortable. "There was something else, too. While we were in the tower we… _borrowed_ a few books. Well, a _lot_ of books." She chuckled at that, nodding in understanding. I didn't expect Morrigan would have any objections to robbing the Circle blind. "This one is strange. I don't even recognize the _alphabet_. Neither does Zevran. Have you ever seen anything like it?"

Her eyes widened when I passed the black leather-bound text over. Opening it slowly, Morrigan gasped in shock. "I cannot believe this," she said. "Do you know what this is?"

"You do, I take it?" she nodded.

"Many years ago, long before I was born, templars came upon Flemeth's hut. She slipped out but they still ransacked her home. They took her staves, her amulets, her herbs… anything that might have had the slightest relation to magic. _Including_ this grimoire!"

"This was Flemeth's?"

"I am _sure_ of it," she said. "I have seen the replacement, after all. Who else but Flemeth would write in the old Alamarri language?"

"_That's_ what it is!" I said, pleased to have a name to put with the strange markings. Zevran was right about it being primitive. It was thought to have died out when Ferelden was nothing more than the southernmost outpost of the massive Tevinter empire. But, if it did remain, among the Chasind was as likely a place as any. "Well, what do you want to do with it?"

"Study it," she said quickly. "As closely as I can."

"What do you think you'll learn?" I asked, hoping for some new spells that we could use against the darkspawn.

"_Secrets_," was all Morrigan would say, grinning wickedly. "I do not intend to squander this opportunity to learn everything Flemeth has tried to keep from me for years!"

"Let me know if you find anything good," I said before wishing her goodnight and returning to the other fire.

"No wonder we couldn't read it," I said to Zevran. "It's written in _Alamarri_!"

"Who would write in that dead language? And how does _Morrigan_ know it? I thought she grew up in a swamp!"

"She did," I said. "Raised by Flemeth."

He raised an eyebrow. "_Flemeth_. The witch from legend?"

"The very same," I said.

"You're making that up," he said, laughing. "Again with the lies. Will I need to take you across my knee?"

"Hmmm…. now _there's_ an idea," I said, grinning. "But I'm telling the absolute truth." He looked dubious. "All right. Ostagar. Me and Alistair, we're at the top of the tower of Ishal, waaay in the air. We killed our way through the building and killed the ogre at the top. But before we could leave tons of darkspawn begin pouring into the room. _Tons_."

"And your famed Grey Warden abilities didn't allow you to sense them?"

"Of course Alistair sensed darkspawn! We were _surrounded_ by darkspawn," I said. "Dead, but they don't become not-darkspawn after we've killed them."

"Alistair, but not you?"

"I was too new then," I said. "I can now, but it took maybe a month and a half. On the way to Orzammar I started to sense them. I guess that's normal." Since Alistair had explained it to me right in front of Morrigan and Flemeth I figured that wasn't secret Grey Warden information. He made a noise at that and gestured for me to go on.

"_Anyways_. Darkspawn poured in. I must have gotten hit with five, maybe six, arrows before I even knew what was happening. Alistair was no better. I passed out, but when I woke up- a couple weeks later, mind you, I wasn't in the Tower of Ishal. I was in Morrigan and Flemeth's house, sleeping in a bed."

"But… how?"

"Morrigan said Flemeth turned herself into a giant bird and plucked Alistair and I from the top of the tower, one in each claw."

"And you _believe _this?"

I shrugged. "I believe I'm not dead. I was bleeding and unconscious on the top floor of a tower that might actually be taller than the Circle of Magi's, surrounded by darkspawn. But I didn't die. Can you think of another explanation?"

"No," he admitted.

"Me neither," I said. "So… yeah, I think I do believe her mother is _the_ Flemeth. And she's completely insane, but I think that could be assumed for anyone once your age can be measured in centuries." I shrugged. "She seemed to believe something about me, although the Maker only knows what…" I recounted her bizarre statements on our two meetings. Zevran only shook his head.

"I suddenly wonder how Morrigan has turned out as _normal_ as she is," he said after a moment, speaking quietly. "And that is not saying very much!"

"She seems normal enough to me," I said.

Zevran chuckled. "Remind me to never ask a mage to be the judge of normalcy." I made a face at him, he made one back at me and we both broke down laughing.

We barely slept that night. Despite the massive quantities of ice salve Morrigan and I had been making, it was so cold my hands and feet were stiff and aching. "This is madness," Zevran muttered, sitting up, his knees pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs. "I'm _freezing_. I know I complain of the cold, but this time I'm being quite serious. My fingers are _blue_."

"I know," I said, grabbing the small tub of the blue salve and rubbing it into his hands. He sighed, giving me a pointed look. "We'll find an inn tomorrow night," I said.

"We might as well start walking now," Zevran said. "I would be astonished if anyone could sleep in this weather. And if they were… I'd be concerned it was unconsciousness from the cold and not actually _sleep_." He shook his head. "You've cast spells to keep us both warm, and with two people in one tent that gives us an added advantage."

"Which means as cold as we are, they're colder," I concluded. I poked my head out of my tent, Alistair and Leliana were hovering as close as they could to the fire without actually being _in _the fire, and Oghren was pacing not far away. "Let's go," I said. Zevran nodded and we began packing our bedrolls. We hadn't even bothered to undress or change into nightclothes, it was far too cold.

"What do you think?" Alistair asked as we left our tent. Zevran immediately began tearing it down.

"I think we start walking and don't stop until we find someplace _indoors_ to sleep."

"In the middle of the night?" Wynne asked.

"We _could_ stand here shivering until dawn," Morrigan broke in, walking over from her campfire. "But I personally see no need. Tis not as if any of us could _sleep_."

Alistair sighed. "I really, really hate to say this, but she's right." Making a face, he shuddered dramatically. "Oh Maker, that was painful." Well, there it was. Secret rule number one. When Alistair and Morrigan agreed it was most definitely time to act.

"Let's go," I said, yawning.

"You do realize there are bandits on the road," Wynne said.

"You don't say," I replied. "I had _no_ idea, having only left the tower an _hour ago_. And having spent that entire hour under a rock. With my eyes closed. And my fingers in my ears." Even Leliana laughed at that. Really, did she think I'd never encountered a bandit while living in a tent and hiking all over the nation? "If we can't handle a group of bandits I'd hate to say the mess the archdemon would make of us."

"That is a very good point," Zevran said.

Not surprisingly we were accosted before dawn. "Take their gold," the leader said after jumping out from a ditch on the side of the road. "Kill them if they fight. Keep the pretty one al—"

"Oh, I _am_ sorry," Morrigan said, smiling after lightning arced from her fingertips to the bandit. "Was he saying something? Would one of you like to finish for him?"

Another of the group stepped forward, looking intimidating. "You're going to regret do—"

"Right, next?" I said after freezing and shattering him.

"Shut up and kill them," one shouted as he ran forward. The rest soon followed, but we weren't far behind. I could hear Alistair shout something and jumped just in time to avoid tripping over a severed head. I froze three at once, Sten and Oghren quickly jumped in, shattering them. It wasn't long before the bandits were down.

"I wonder," Leliana said as we continued on after looting _their_ corpses. "Which of us is 'the pretty one'?"

"I think that is rather obvious," Zevran said quickly.

She giggled. "Oh, you are biased! Of course you will pick her."

"He wasn't talking about me," I said. She looked confused. "Zevran was talking about _himself_."

"Quite true," he agreed. "Would you disagree?

I looked over at him, lit from the glow of Morrigan's staff. "No," I said after a moment of pretending to decide. "You're definitely prettier than me." He grinned. "I've got better legs, though."

"And a nicer chest," he added.

"Well that goes without saying," I said.

After walking for what felt like hours Leliana pointed at a shadow on the side of the road. "Look," she called. "Do you think they fled to escape the Blight? This far north?"

"To the Free Marches, maybe," Alistair said as he walked over to see what she was pointing at. A small farmhouse sat on the side of the road, boarded up.

"Either way, good for us," I said, walking over and trying to pry one of the board off with my hands. Clearing his throat, Sten walked up behind me and waved me aside. He had far less difficulty, which I should have expected.

"Is this legal?" Alistair asked as we walked in.

"Is wandering the whole of Ferelden while wanted for high treason and regicide legal?" I countered.

"You have a point," he said drily, building up a fire in the front room with the wood that had been left by the former occupants.

We all spread our bedrolls out in the front room, close to the fire. At some point in the night was shaken awake to find a hand over my mouth. I was initially started and tried to pull back before I saw Zevran near me, his finger to his lips gesturing for silence. When I nodded he removed his hand and gestured for me to follow. Stepping carefully over our sleeping companions, Zevran led me to a ladder pulled down from a ceiling in the hall. "What is this?" I whispered.

"Sssh," he replied. "Just follow me." I did, glancing around with curiosity when we got to the attic. A dusty straw mattress sat forgotten on the floor, with what looked like the blankets of Zevran's bedroll tossed over it. The slope-ceilinged room was otherwise empty save a few large candle lanterns.

With a grin I flopped down onto the blankets. "This is much better than sleeping on the floor."

Zevran laughed. "What are you talking about? I found the bed, it's mine. I merely brought you up here to show it off."

I made a face at him. "Liar."

"Not at all. Now back downstairs with you, I want to sleep."

"You don't even want me to keep you warm?" I said, laughing.

"Warm? You're like ice! When one of your feet touched me last night I jumped so far I wouldn't have been surprised to land back home in Antiva!" He shook his head. "No wonder you favor ice spells."

"You're really going to send me back down there and take this whole room up by yourself?" I said, raising an eyebrow. "Not very chivalrous of you."

"Chivalrous?" he laughed, sitting next to me on the mattress. "You _do_ remember what my occupation is, yes? Are most assassins known for their courtly manners?"

"I don't know," I said, sitting up. "But since you're the only assassin I've ever known I'm judging all of them based on you. You'll spoil their image for me."

"Oh, well that would be bad," Zevran said, reaching behind me and untying the laces of my robes. "I suppose in that case you can stay. I can't darken the image of my entire profession in your eyes." Snickering, I pulled them over my head before darting under the heavy blanket. He joined me a moment later, shivering after removing his armor. "_Sto congelando,_" he muttered, pulling me roughly towards him.

"What does that mean?" I asked as he began kissing my throat.

"It means I'm freezing," he replied. I started giggling. "What? I am!"

"No… I just… I was expecting something very different."

He chuckled. "If it was something like that I wouldn't tell you what it meant. Takes away all the fun."

I made a face at him for that, but my annoyance was forgotten as his hands began to roam over my body.

"You know," I said later on as he whispered something into my ear while we shivered together under the blankets, "one of these days I'll get an Antivan dictionary and figure out what you're saying."

"Ah, and on that day I fear I'll be slapped," he laughed. "You know, I was wondering why Fereldan families were not larger, as that seems to be the only way to get warm in the winter, but I think I'm starting to see the downside."

"Still worth it," I said.

"Did I say it wasn't?" He leaned over and blew out the candle, mostly unnecessary as the early morning light seeping in through the battered roof was providing more than enough light to see by. Shifting so his arm was around my waist, Zevran whispered goodnight in my ear. I responded in kind and, before long, was fast asleep.

I could hear someone shouting my name. The last thing I remembered was falling asleep wrapped around Zevran who, as best I could tell, was just waking up and as confused as me. Before either of us were conscious enough to react I gasped at a rush of cold air on my skin.

"Woah," I heard someone shout and the blanket was quickly dropped. "Sorry, sorry."

"Alistair," I called, yanking the blanket back up. "Have you _lost_ your bloody _mind_?"

"You're both naked!" was all he said.

"You are surprised by this?" Zevran said, getting out of the bed. I could hear him getting dressed. Alistair, having grown up in a monastery, was probably used to changing around other men, and didn't complain. "Is there a particular reason you rushed up here to drag us from bed?"

"We didn't know where you _were_," he replied. "Your stuff was gone and her bedroll was empty. What was I supposed to think?"

"The logical answer would be that we moved to a more private location," Zevran said in an annoyed voice. "While I don't object to an audience I believe Maggie would have several words for the subject. And you as well, no doubt." His voice dropped and took on a cold tone. "Why? What did you think had happened?" Alistair was silent, I could hear the shuffling of feet and peeked over the top of the blanket. "I see," Zevran said after a moment. "You assumed… what? I killed her? Hid the body and ran off in the night?"

When Alistair didn't reply Zevran said several very angry sounding things in Antivan to him, shook a fist in his face, and stormed down the ladder.

"What is your problem, Alistair?" I said when Zevran had left. "When are you going to finally drop this?"

"He tried to kill us!" Alistair insisted.

"Months ago," I said. "You know it would be _far_ easier for him to kill me on any of the numerous occasions I've been naked and unconscious next to him in bed as compared to sleeping in a large room with everyone else," I pointed out. "And yet he hasn't. He's _saved _my life, more than once. And yours. So when are you going to drop this?"

"I can't have this conversation with a naked person," Alistair said, face red as he looked at the ceiling. "Why are you even naked anyways? It's freezing."

"Fine, turn around and I'll get dressed." He did and I climbed out from under the blankets, quickly pulling on clothes. "And we were naked because it's much more fun to have sex without clothing getting in the way. And we were too tired to get dressed after since if you do it right that's pretty exhausting." He made a choking noise. "Hey, you asked."

"And I regret it already," he said.

"Dressed," I said. "Now talk. Why won't you let this go?"

"I… it's just…" he sighed. "Look, I know I'm not exactly a man of the world or anything, but even I'm not as… sheltered as you. You trust _everyone_. How do you know he's telling the truth? How do you know he's not just, I don't know, waiting for the right moment?"

"Because I do," I said. "I'm the one who sleeps with him, I'm the one who spends every night alone on watch with him talking. I know Zev better than any of you, and I know he has absolutely zero interest in killing either of us."

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "How do you know you're not, I don't know… um"

"Spit out," I said. "I still need to go downstairs and make sure he's not burning everything you own in the fireplace out of anger, so you know, time is of the essence."

"…burn?" Alistair said, sounding horrified.

"Well, that's what _I'd_ do, were I him. He could piss on it, though. I suppose if I could aim that would have fallen into my angry revenge repertoire at some point."

"Maker's breath…" he muttered. "Look, I just wonder if you're thinking with your head or, well…" I glared at him as he trailed off again. "All right, I know you keep saying there's nothing between you, but even I'm not that naive. And I just wonder if you're so sure of him because you're blinded by, you know, your feelings for him. Or something. Please don't set me on fire." He paused. "You really have an angry revenge repertoire?"

"You _don't_?"

"Hm. No. No, I can't say I do. You scare me sometimes, you know that right?"

"I know," I said. "And I don't know what to tell you." I shrugged. "But I know he's not out to kill us. I'm completely, totally, absolutely sure."

"How do you—"

"How many times have you seen him honestly lose his temper?" I asked, interrupting Alistair.

"Um… counting now? I guess it would be once?"

"Right," I said. "Alistair, giving his word is a really big deal for Zevran. His own honor is all he really _has_, you know? You didn't notice what a thing he made of swearing his loyalty? That's because it is a _huge _deal for him! You might as well spit in his face every time you hint that you don't trust it. You probably couldn't offend him more if you tried."

Alistair went silent, apparently thinking over what I said. "I think I see your point," he said. "I don't know, I just feel like…" he shrugged. "We're the only Grey Wardens left, you're my best friend, and I just feel like I should look out for you." He gave me a sheepish grin. "That probably sounds pretty stupid considering you could knock this whole building down with a couple spells if you felt like it." Alistair sighed. "I've probably been a little too paranoid since I'm worried about you. I think he'll end up hurting you."

"Didn't we _just_ go over that?"

"That isn't the kind of hurt I mean," Alistair said.

"Oh," I said, understanding what he meant. "Well, don't worry about that. We're not, you know, like _that_."

"Maker's breath," he muttered, shaking his head. "All right, just keep telling yourself that. If I'm supposed to prevent him from going off on some destructive revenge kick I don't have time to pretend I believe a word of that. I'm going to go downstairs and try to apologize." He turned to leave and doubled back. "Oh, and someone was looking for us."

"Someone?"

Alistair shrugged. "Levi something or another. Said he knew Duncan. He wants our help with something... like everyone else, I guess. Apparently he's been trying to catch up to us for months. He's waiting outside to talk with us."

"I'll be down as soon as I roll up the blankets," I said.

"Good," he replied. Alistair started to leave. As he stomped down the stairs I could hear him add "and nice hickey, by the way," over his shoulder.

* * *

_New art! Well, it's AOA art, but that's never stopped me from pimping it. Take out the spaces for the URLs to work._  
**http:/ cave-fatuam. deviantart. com/ gallery/#/ d34aidf**  
**http:/ cave-fatuam. deviantart. com/ gallery/#/ d34dt0a**  
**http:/ cave-fatuam. deviantart. com/ gallery/#/ d34dt5u** _(mildly NSFW for bare maggie butt)  
Thanks as always to all my reviewers!_


	34. Mix it up with some casual blasphemy

"So will you help me? Will you be able to fulfill Duncan's promise?" _Oh, that's low_, I thought, standing on the cold lawn of the house we'd slept in. The merchant who had been looking for us was asking for a favor and using some promise Duncan may or may not have made- since really, it wasn't like we could ask him, to guilt us. Specifically, he was a merchant descendant of Sophia Dryden, the last Warden Commander in Ferelden before their… well, _our_ banishment.

"Of course we will," Alistair said before I could think on it. "We would be _thrilled_ to help any friend of Duncan's!"

Oh, he would say that. I looked up at him. "Are you sure we have time?" I asked. "We need to get to Denerim, back to Redcliffe, and then back to the east so we can go to the Brecilian Forest before the winter hits again."

"It's in Amaranthine," Alistair said simply.

I stared at him blankly. "Right, sorry," he said after a moment. "So, right now we're in Waking Sea, just north of Redcliffe." I nodded, not seeing any reason to argue since it wasn't as though I knew anything better. "To get to Denerim from here we would take the North road, which runs through the coastlands, and then from there the Pilgrim's Path south into the capital."

"Um, all right," I said, still not seeing his point.

"Do… do the _names_ at least mean something to you?"

I rolled my eyes. "Of course they do!" I snapped. "I'm as educated as you are!"

"All right, all right," he said. "It's not your fault. Sorry. Anyways, the North Road runs through Highever and then Amaranthine, which is where we would get the Pilgrim's Path. This is already on our way."

"Highever and Amaranthine?" I said. He nodded. "Amaranthine, which is run by Arl Howe, and Highever which was recently taken over by Arl Howe?"

"Yes," Alistair said. "Those are the ones, wh— oh. I see your point."

"Right," I said.

He rubbed the back of his neck, giving the merchant a sheepish grin. "Well," Alistair began, "here's the problem. Arl Howe is no fan of the Wardens right now. Going into his lands could end up—"

"He'll kill us in a heartbeat if he finds us," I broke in, seeing no reason to dance around the subject.

"Oh," the merchant said. _Levi_, I suddenly remembered Alistair introducing him as. "Well, if you don't mind me speaking freely," he said and paused, waiting for one of us to say something. We both looked at him blankly.

"Um, why would we mind?" I asked after a brief uncomfortable silence.

"Well, you two are Grey Wardens," he said, as though that would explain it.

"And?" Alistair said.

"Forget I said anything," Levi said after a moment, looking slightly amused. "What I was going to point out is, if you can't pass through the domain of Arl Howe you're in for some trouble." I waited for him to go on. "Well, he was just named Arl of Denerim as well."

I sighed. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Afraid not," he said.

"Arl of Amaranthine, Teyrn of Highever, and now Arl of Denerim, too!" Alistair shook his head. "How many titles does one man need?"

"The dog serves his master well, apparently," I added with a roll of my eyes. "Bastards." Levi stared at us in horror.

"Don't mind her," Alistair said casually. "She likes to get all her treason in before breakfast. Now me, I prefer to space it out throughout the day, maybe mix it up with some casual blasphemy to keep things interesting." He looked at Levi and added "that was a joke."

"Right," he said. "Of course. Well, like I was saying, it seems you're headed into his lands one way or another, and if you don't mind a bit of advice from someone who may have a bit more experience traveling the Ferelden roads…"

"By all means," I said.

"This time of year, to be blunt, the North Road isn't your best option: it's your _only_ option. Especially if you're on foot. Warm breeze from the sea keeps it a bit nicer. The other roads will be under a couple feet of snow until Drakonis."

"Fun," I muttered. "You know, I didn't think snow was this unpleasant when I only saw it through windows high in the air."

"Wouldn't be as bad if you didn't wear dresses everywhere."

I smacked him in the arm. "Andraste's tits, it's not a _dress_, you ass! They're mage robes! What should I wear… _armor_?"

Alistair looked me over appraisingly. "I think if you did I might honestly break something _laughing_."

"Well, there you go," I said. I looked at Levi. "How many can you fit in your wagon?"

"Um…" he looked nervous. "Five, maybe six?"

"You seen a couple dwarves around lately?" I asked him. "Merchants, they'd be on an oxcart. The boy is a bit… um…" I paused, trying to figure out how to politely explain the unusual Sandal Feddic.

"He only says the word 'enchantment' over and over," Alistair said. Well, that was one way.

"Oh, them, sure," he said "Just yesterday I passed them. They were bunking down for the night, but I wouldn't be surprised if they passed by soon."

"See if we can split up between his wagon and the Feddics?" Alistair said, looking at me.

"You got it," I said. "It'll be better if we're out of sight," I said.

"Faster, too," he agreed.

"So you'll help me?" Levi said.

"Sure," I told him. "Really, it wasn't a question of if we would, just if we would _now_. What with the blight and all. But it's on our way, like he said, and if we can ride instead of walking that'll cut days off the trip so it'll all balance in the end."

He looked relieved and went to rearrange his goods so most of us could fit. "How will we split this up?" Alistair asked.

I sighed. "You won't want to be with Morrigan. She won't want to be with Leliana. Morrigan, Zevran, and I wouldn't want to be with Wynne. Wynne won't want to be with Morrigan, and would spend every moment lecturing Zevran about being an assassin or me about being, well… _me._" Alistair laughed at that. "So…Morrigan, Zevran and I in one, you, Wynne, and Leliana in another?"

"Sten and Oghren?"

"No issues with either of them, as far as I know," I said. "So I suppose they could go in either wagon."

"You take Oghren," Alistair said with a nod. "Sten doesn't belch as much, and I think packing him in with you _and_ Morrigan might be a bit much for his Qunari sensibilities. Besides, you and Zevran are the only ones who laugh at Oghren's jokes."

"His jokes are bloody fantastic," I said. "Don't get why you don't think so!"

"They're _filthy_," Alistair said.

"That's what makes them good!"

"Right, you get Oghren," he repeated.

"Sten likes me," I said. "I found out where the scavenger who took his sword is." Alistair raised an eyebrow. "Um… you remember that merchant camp outside Orzammar?" He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Well, we can stock up on nug meat for spring!"

"We're going all the way to Orzammar for a _sword_?"

"I promised him," I said. "But this was before I knew it would involve so much travel. He can't even go home without it, though. He'd be… outcast or something."

"All right," Alistair sighed. "I can't claim to get it, but if it means that much in his culture I suppose it's the least we can do since he's helping us against the blight." I nodded in agreement.

"You talk to Zevran?" I asked.

He sighed. "I did."

"And?"

"He's also horrified that you have an angry revenge repertoire." I sighed. "Well he _is_," Alistair said. He made a face at me after a moment. "It's _fine_," Alistair said. "We talked, shared all our manly feelings, had a nice cry, and capped it all off by punching each other in the shoulder and marking our territory while howling at the moon."

"It's daytime, Alistair," I said.

"Is it? No wonder I walked into that tree after staring at the moon too long. That sun just sneaks up on you, doesn't it!" I stared at him. "Fine," Alistair said. "I talked to him. It's fine. He's fine, I'm fine. No one is going to burn anyone's belongings." He sighed. "You're right: he isn't interested in killing either of us anymore." Alistair looked like he had more to say. "You know, the two of you are kind of sad," he said after a moment. "I can't believe how much both of you dance around admitting you might actually have feelings. He's as bad as you are."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said. I knew Alistair couldn't really fathom the idea of having sex just for the fun of it, but really, he seemed adamant about convincing me I thought the same thing.

"I know," he said. "That's why it's sad. But I think I see the Feddics not far off. We'd better get everyone ready." I nodded and went off in search of the others. After calling to Morrigan and Oghren to be ready I found Zevran.

"Did he apologize?" I asked, seeing him sitting with both of our bags.

"He did," Zevran confirmed. "He's rather protective of you. If I didn't know better I'd wonder if there was something between the two of you."

"We're friends," I said, sitting by his side.

"I know," Zevran said. "I… have not had many I could truly call a friend in my life. It's still rather unfamiliar to me." He shrugged. "You are both Wardens, there's a connection that you share none of us can understand. You are family, of a sort."

"You could always become a Warden, if you wanted," I said slowly. I was anxious about the dangers of the Joining, but didn't want Zevran to think he would be unwelcome. I had no doubt whoever eventually came to take over for Duncan would see the value of his skills.

"Oh no," Zevran laughed. "There are some bodily fluids even _I _won't touch."

I gasped, turning my head to look at him. "What?"

He smirked. "I had a contract for two Grey Wardens, do you think I came here blindly? I dug up all the information the Crow archives had on your order."

"Maker's breath," I muttered. "That's supposed to be secret!"

"The Crows know many secrets," was all Zevran said in reply. Seeing the look on my face he sighed. "Come now, do you really think I will shout it from the mountains? It is strange enough to actually sit back and realize I've put my tongue in the mouth of someone who drank that filth." He paused for a moment before adding "among other body parts."

"You can't ever tell anyone," I said.

"About what I've put in your mouth? I can't quite see how it would even come up in conversation, but if that's how you feel—"

"Not _that_. I mean the Warden stuff."

He chuckled. "Does that mean I _can_ tell people what I've put in your mouth?"

"Zev, I'm _serious_. The man before me, at my Joining… he tried to back down at the last moment. Duncan _killed him_ so he couldn't reveal the Warden secrets. I don't know what they would do if they found someone spreading that around, but I'm sure it won't be _good_."

"And you, my dear Warden?" Zevran said.

"Yes, I'm going to kill you to protect Warden secrets," I deadpanned. "You've got me. That's my plan exactly."

"I suppose it was a silly question," he said.

"Oh no, the whole telling you never to let anyone know since other Wardens might kill you? A very clever ruse. Now prepare to die." I snickered. "Or should it be 'the Antivan Crow dies here'?"

"All right, all right," he said. "You made your joke. I understand. Your order's disgusting secrets are safe with me. And I thought we agreed to no imitating each other's accents?"

"Sorry, couldn't resist," I said.

"I thought mages were renowned for their willpower? I've never met someone with so little impulse control."

I made a face at him and grabbed my bag, walking towards the wagons. Zevran was behind me, chuckling as he walked. "I saw what you did there," I said to Alistair once we returned, rocking back on my heels.

"Huh?"

"With what's his name? Levi!"

"What did I do? Are you mad I told him we would help?" He looked nervous.

"Not at all," I said. "Your reasoning was completely solid. You actually made a decision, though. I thought you hated doing that."

Alistair froze, closing his eyes for a moment and taking a breath. "No I didn't," he said finally.

"You did so! You decided we would help, based on knowing it was already on our way to Denerim. It was smart."

He laughed and shook his head. "Nah, I just knew what you'd say so I answered for you. Believe me, I'm the last one you want deciding anything!" With that Alistair walked off, hopping into the wagon.

"All right, that was strange, wasn't it?" I said to Zevran. "Was it me? I thought he made the right call, should I have not said anything?"

Zevran shook his head. "I have a suspicion," he said quietly. "I may be completely wrong, of course. But… it's as good a theory as any." I gestured for him to go on. "What do you think happens to royal bastards who appear too competent? Particularly when the king is notoriously incompetent? Even in Antiva everyone knew Cailan was king for his bloodline, nothing more. If a more suitable candidate of that bloodline made an appearance…"

"People would fight to get him on the throne," I said.

"Not really," Zevran said. "He'd be killed well before that could happen."

I raised my eyebrow. "This isn't Antiva, we don't solve everything with assassinations."

Zevran snorted. "Oh yes, only the Antivan government deals in assassinations. The government of Ferelden would _never_ hire an assass—oh, wait." He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as if to say 'so there.'

"All right, you may have a point," I admitted, looking at Alistair who was staring blankly at his hands. "I'm going to go talk to him." Zevran nodded and I walked over to the wagon, gesturing to Alistair as the others loaded up their gear.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"That's what I was going to ask you."

"No, I'm fine," he lied unconvincingly, still looking at his hands. I raised my eyebrows and said nothing. Eventually Alistair looked over at me and sighed, before standing up. "Let's walk," he said once he was on the ground. I did, following him and waiting for an explanation. He stopped when we were out of earshot from the others, putting his arm against a tree.

"What is so damned upsetting about the thought that you might have made an independent decision?" I asked him.

"I'm not _good_ at making decisions," he began. "I'm not cut out to lead anyone."

"Why do you think that, though? You did fine, you made the right decision. I would have told him to wait until after the blight since I didn't know as much as you, and that would have been wrong. This gets us through Howe's lands in wagons, which is a hundred times safer."

"I just… I don't know," he said, pacing. "I was always told I should keep my head down, not make waves, never, _ever_ stand out…"

"Because of your father?"

"Obviously," came his answer, loaded with sarcasm. "What would have happened if someone thought I was a threat to Cailan? What if I became, I don't know, popular? Or displayed some natural affinity for leadership?" He made a face. "Someone unhappy with the king would try to get me on the throne instead. I'm no secret, not _really_. Plenty of nobles know who I am. Even if they weren't sure," he gave me a sardonic look and tapped his distinctive Theirin nose. "And it wouldn't work… I'm the son of a commoner, and that means just as much as the royal blood to those types, but just the potential could cause chaos or…"

"Get you killed before anyone could try?"

"Absolutely," he said. "Keep my head down or lose it completely? Easy decision."

"Cailan's dead, Alistair," I said.

"So?" he said. "I still don't know how to do any of those things. I've spent my whole life going out of my way to make sure I never even _learned_ any of that. That hasn't changed."

"Well, of course all mages are trained from childhood to prepare for the day they would assume a position of authority. Since we _know_ how much the Chantry _loves_ the idea of keeping mages in charge of things."

"Har har," he said.

"I'm serious."

"Then maybe you're just a natural," he said, rolling his eyes. "You're much better at bossing people around than me, don't even argue."

I made a face at him. "Maybe," I conceded. "But quit playing dumb. You're allowed to have an opinion. There's already a price on our heads, so who cares if some stick up the ass noble thinks you're getting too uppity for a bastard? What, that just means we have to kill whoever they send against us, too? Big deal."

"You _do_ have a way with words," he said, rolling his eyes. "And we'll see." We walked back towards the others. "Oh," Alistair said after a moment. "Not that I was looking or trying to look or anything but um…"

"What?"

"You might want to have Wynne take a look at your tattoo," he said after a moment. "It was all… red. Mine's not all red."

"It does still hurt a bit," I admitted.

"Mine doesn't."

I sighed. Once we returned to the others I found Wynne speaking with Leliana. "Do you have a minute?" I asked her.

Without a word she raised her hand towards me and cast a spell. "You're not pregnant," Wynne said decisively.

"Um… I didn't think I was, although confirmation is always reassuring," I said. "It was about this. Alistair's doesn't look like this." I lifted the hem of my robes and showed her the tattoo.

"Where did you get that?" she gasped, shocked.

"Zevran did it for me. He gave Alistair one, too. His is on his bicep. It looks really good, but mine's still all red and hurts."

She knelt down and looked closer, sucking in a sharp breath. I winced as she touched the skin near my tattoo, although her fingers were never actually on the ink itself. "Margaret!" she said, sounding horrified, "can't you recognize an infection when you have one?" Wynne stood up and put her hand to my forehead. "You're burning up!" She grabbed me by the arm and hustled me back into the house, calling "please bring me my components bag," over her shoulder to Leliana.

"Is it bad?" I asked her as we went inside.

"Any worse and we'd be worrying about saving your leg!" she said. "Now lay down."

Leliana was right behind us, and sat on my opposite side. "Oh, that doesn't look good at all," she said, glancing at my tattoo. "See the red lines going up and down your leg from there? That's the infection spreading. Some poisons operate the same way." Wynne gave her a double take and shook her head slightly, looking surprised. "I know you, you would ignore your own arm hanging off by a thread, but how did Zevran not notice this?"

"When that part isn't covered by something it's usually dark and his attention is focused somewhere else."

"But the fever?"

"He always says I'm warm. I think it may be normal for a Grey Warden. Except my feet. Apparently I have very cold feet."

"Men always say that," Leliana said. "As though theirs are any better."

"This is bad," Wynne said finally. "How do you feel?"

"Well, it hurts," I said.

"Otherwise, though? How do you feel overall?"

"Tired," I admitted. "That's my fault, though. Zev and I… well, yeah." She made a face at me and I figured the sentence didn't need completing. "Been tired for a few days now, kind of achey. My chest hurts a bit. One of my ankles could be better."

"Well, I suspect some of those are unrelated injuries you never mentioned to me," Wynne said with a sigh. "You have blood poisoning, Margaret. Why didn't you say something sooner? People _die_ from this!"

"I didn't know anything was wrong," I said. "I always feel awful."

"_That_ is something wrong," she said. "Why didn't you tell me?" I didn't answer and Wynne shook her head, digging through her bag. "All right, brace yourself. This isn't going to be pleasant." I did as she requested bit still cried out when she rubbed something stinging over my leg. "I'm sorry," Wynne said. "We need to clean it out, there's... well, I don't even want to _think_ about what it could be in there. Darkspawn blood, dirt and Maker only knows what else. The worst of the infection is on the surface." She indicated that the process was about to be repeated. I nodded and tensed, better prepared this time. I still made a noise of pain, though.

Zevran burst into the building, Alistair on his heels. Seeing me on the ground he bolted over. "What's happened?"

"What do you _think_?" Wynne hissed at him. "You gave this girl a tattoo and it got infected. No surprise given the conditions we all live in. This is so bad its spread to her blood! Did you bother to tell her how to keep it clean? Did you even _notice_ when it wasn't healing properly?" She gave him a look of disgust. "You see _more_ of her than anyone," Wynne said, her tone making the meaning of her words quite clear. "How could you not notice this?"

"To be fair, the tattoos _were_ Maggie's idea," Alistair said slowly. "Zevran did try and talk her out of it."

"No," Zevran said, sitting down near me and lifting my shoulder so my head was resting on his lap. "I should have told her no, or lied about not having the supplies."

Wynne sighed. "You wouldn't be the first person she talked into going along with some foolish plan."

"I'm _right here_," I said.

"Well stop talking people into foolish plans, then!" Wynne replied.

"Will she be all right?" Alistair asked Wynne.

"Yes. Just give me some time to work."

He nodded. "I'll let everyone know we're leaving in a bit." Leliana followed him out. Zevran brushed my hair back from my face as Wynne worked.

"You have a sprained ankle," she said, sitting back on her heels, "as well as a broken rib and a slight concussion." I felt better than I had in ages, so I suppose there was more wrong with me than I expected. "And you're slightly malnourished, although there isn't anything I can do about that, and I suspect the same could be said for most of you. The next time you're not feeling well please say something. There's no point in having a healer with you if you're not going to tell her when you need healing."

"All right," I said, sitting up. "Sorry."

"Just don't let it happen again," she said. "There is too much riding on your shoulders for you to try and be stoic about basic injuries I can heal in moments."

I nodded and she got up. "I should have noticed," Zevran said as I put my stocking back on.

"How would you?" I replied. "I'm usually already under the blankets when you get into bed, and it's dark out whenever that part of my body isn't covered by clothes."

"Even so," he shrugged. "I should have checked on it, I gave it to you after all."

"It's my leg. I should have noticed it wasn't healing properly. Even I'm not so inept a healer I can't recognize an infection."

"Well, we are both incompetent, then," Zevran said, climbing to his feet and offering me a hand. I made a face at him before accepting it, holding on even as we walked outside once more, although I had no idea why I was compelled to do so.

Alistair had made the right decision offering to help Levi, that proved to be the case quickly. As we moved eastward we actually passed more than one group of Loghain's men on the road. Since we could hide in the back we could go by them without incident. Fighting would have been an option, of course, but if we killed them whoever went looking would know we had been there. This way they had no idea where in Ferelden we were, or if we were even still in Ferelden at all.

After less than a week I Levi drew the wagon to a stop and called me forward. I hopped up onto the front bench with him. "There it is," he pointed. I looked out in the direction he gestured. I think I may have gasped. In the distance I could see grey stone rising out of the mountains themselves, more enormous towers reaching into the sky than I could count from where we stood. It was perhaps even larger than the royal palace in Denerim.

"That's it?" I asked, although there wasn't anything else he could have been pointing at.

"That's it. Soldier's Peak."

"Maker's breath," was all I could say. As I stared at the old fortress I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. Something told me there would have to be a very good reason such a massive fortress would remain abandoned for centuries instead of appropriated by Howe or some other noble. Whatever that reason was, we were going to find out very, very soon.

* * *

_A bit behind on responding to reviews and messages, still catching up from when I was in finals and all. (insert the *I'm finally a college graduate* dance here)  
_

_And if you haven't seen it yet, I made a little holiday card of sorts. Since the joke came to me when filling a prompt about Zevran and mistletoe. So I had to.  
_**http:/ lupusyondergirl. deviantart. com/ #/ d35b59a**

_Thanks as always to all my reviewers! Happy holidays!_


	35. Now all I can think of are genlocks

"What do you think?" I asked Alistair as we unloaded the wagons outside an inn on the North Road, fortress looming in the distance.

"Seems odd it would just be _abandoned_," he said. "Yes, it belongs, or _belonged, _to the Wardens, but once they were expelled wouldn't it have gone to the crown or the Arl of Amaranthine or something? Wouldn't _someone_ take over?"

"No idea," I said. "I was thinking the same thing, though. Like, something must be very wrong if no one has been interested in the place. It's _massive_." I sat next to him by the fire. "You think what he said is true? Ghosts?"

"Maybe?" Alistair said. "It's hard to get to, we'll have to go through tunnels."

"But it's not like people can't _see_ it," I countered. "Someone determined could have found a way over the last two centuries." Tossing my bag over my shoulder I glanced around to make sure we hadn't left anything in the wagons. "I don't like it."

"Me neither," he agreed.

The others echoed our feelings as we sat down to dinner. "That seems a highly defensible location," Zevran said between mouthfuls of soup. "I do not understand why some noble hasn't moved in."

"It looks very sturdy from here," Wynne agreed. "Carved right out of the mountains."

"If no one has moved in, I suspect we will find a very good reason," Morrigan said.

"Well, whatever it is we'll know tomorrow," I said.

Everyone began to slowly trickle to their rooms. Wynne was among the last. She had been, of all things, laughing over a pint with Oghren. She stopped at our table before leaving. "Any injuries?" We had encountered a particularly tenacious group of darkspawn that morning. Bad enough I'd resorted to blood magic after Zevran, Morrigan, and Leliana were knocked out. Wynne had been so focused on healing them I was mostly ignored. She may have known what I was doing, or maybe she bought that 'secret Warden magic' nonsense. In either case, she had to realize we were in a rough spot, and it wasn't the time to argue when I found a way to end the fight.

"No," I said.

"Liar," Zevran said. "Your arm."

I glared at him. "That's nothing, just a small cut."

She sighed and looked at me, gesturing for my arm. "Small or not, you don't want it getting infected," she said, healing me. "You've been cut there before. Maybe we should get you some armor."

"Maybe," I said, not wanting to explain why I got cut there so frequently. With a nod she went upstairs. "Are you mad?" I said to Zevran. "You know where that cut came from!"

"She doesn't, though," he said. "And although I hate to agree with the schoolmarm, in this case she was correct: it is better not to leave an open wound, however small."

"All right," I gave in.

"Are you tired?" he asked, finishing up his ale.

"Not really," I admitted. Not walking everywhere left me with an excess of energy most evenings, I'd found.

"Good," Zevran replied, giving me a devilish grin before standing up. "Let's go to bed."

I woke the next morning to the sound of leather creaking. Zevran was sitting near the foot of the bed polishing his armor with wax. It wasn't quite dawn and he had lit a single candle. "Good morning!" he said brightly, smiling at me as I began to sit up. Zevran was a morning person, I'd figured that out very quickly.

"Morning," I replied.

"You seem cheerful today," he observed.

I climbed out of bed, heating the cooled unused water from last night that was still in the tub. "Do I?" Climbing in, I leaned back and sighed. "I guess it's always nice to know I survived another day. No darkspawn come to chop off my head or anything."

"And here I thought it was my evening's labors that put the smile on your face."

I laughed, washing my hair. "Well, that too," I said. "But I figured it went without saying."

"Hm," was all he said, setting his armor aside and hopping off the bed to his feet. Walking towards the small bathtub Zevran pulled off his shirt, tossing it back on the bed. "You're naked," he observed.

"It makes it easier to take a bath."

"Indeed," he agreed. "I find it very difficult to focus on polishing my armor while you're naked."

"Do you now?" I said, smirking as I leaned back to rinse my hair, arching my back far more than necessary.

"I do," he repeated. "You do realize if I don't polish my armor it will become rotted, especially in this horrid climate. I could end up very hurt without proper armor." He stood at the side of the tub wearing only his smalls, arms folded as he attempted to glare down at me. The overall effect wasn't as intimidating as he might have liked; the lack of proper clothing left very little about his actual mood to the imagination.

I looked up at him and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry," I said, running soapy hands across my breasts.

"More lies!" he said, kneeling near the tub. "You are not!"

Giggling I shook my head. "I'm not," I agreed.

Grabbing my wet hair he pulled me towards him. While we kissed Zevran slipped his other hand into the warm water and between my legs. I sighed into his mouth.

"Not sorry at all," he said quietly, chuckling as I grabbed at his shoulders, all but pulling him into the water with me. "I'm not undressed yet. You want me to spend the day in damp smalls?"

"So get undressed!" I said.

"Yes, ma'am!" he said, jumping to his feet and dropping the last of his clothing. I quickly shifted to my knees and grabbed him by the hips with both hands. I winked up at him before opening my mouth. "_Creatore…" _he moaned, grabbing my hair with both hands. I didn't exactly need a translation for _that_.

When he suddenly shouted I coughed with surprise. "Little warning next time?" I asked, half-kidding.

"I was as surprised as you," he replied. "You're a woman of many talents."

"But even I know enough not to brag about that one in mixed company," I laughed.

Zevran sat on the floor next to the tub and took a breath, shaking his head. "Of course, now I feel bad for finishing so soon before you."

I grinned and leaned towards him, kissing his neck and reaching between his folded legs. "It's fine," I said, lips against the skin of his neck.

Zevran gasped. "I may need a bit more time," he managed to say. He didn't hear me whispering the words of a spell. "What…?" he muttered as blue light flowed from my hand before laughing. "Many talents, indeed."

"The benefits of being a mage," I said, grinning.

"So it seems!" He grabbed me by the arm, hauling me from the cooling water. I stepped from the tub and let him push me towards the bed.

"I'm all wet!" I protested.

"Perfect!" he announced, shoving me down on top of the blankets.

Legs hooked around his thighs, we moved together on the bed until we were both gasping and sweaty. My nails dug into his shoulders as he thrust, gasping his name.

"So," he said as we caught our breath. "Is there a limit on how many times you can use that spell?"

I looked over at him, Zevran was smiling, running a fingertip back and forth along my collarbone. I couldn't help but smile back at him. Raising my hand, I released another brief surge of magic. "Mmmm…." he muttered, pulling me on top of him. "You will ruin me normal women, I swear it."

"Good," I gasped as my hips bucked against him. He moaned below me, hands running across my skin. I cried out his name as I shuddered and tensed. Fingers digging into my hips, he kept me moving as I went limp above him. Zevran said my name, accompanied by several unfamiliar words in Antivan, before groaning and releasing his hold on me. I fell forward , face buried between his neck and shoulder. Wrapping his arms around me, I could hear him sigh with contentment as he ran his hand across my back.

We crawled back under the blankets, silently watching the sun come up. Eventually Zevran rolled to his side and grinned at me. "Again?"

"You spoil me," I said with a laugh.

"All part of my plan," he said. "This way I won't have to worry about your attention straying elsewhere and I know I'll always be kept warm at night."

"This from the man who said I was a block of ice?"

"Ah, only your feet," he said with a smile. "The rest is rather pleasant. Some parts are, of course, warmer than others." Zevran ran a hand up my inner thigh, smirking. "I admit, those are some of my favorite spots."

I laughed as he tickled my leg, squirming away. Chuckling at my reaction Zevran released his grip on my thigh, twining his fingers with mine and drawing my hand to his mouth. He kissed my palm as we grinned at each other, face to face on the pillows.

Someone knocked on our door. "Come on, lovebirds," Alistair called from the hallway. "Time to get moving!"

I'm pretty sure I blushed at Alistair's moniker for us. It looked like Zevran did the same. We both stared at each other for a moment in silence before Zevran sat up. "Sweet, innocent Alistair," he said with a grin. "I think he has been listening to too many of Leliana's stories."

"He just doesn't want to think of us as hopeless sinners, I suppose." I hopped out of bed and quickly cleaned up, not bothering to reheat the water. "If it's like one of Leliana's tales it isn't as scandalous."

"Oh yes," Zevran said as I pulled on my robes. "That _must_ be it. I'm a professional assassin and you're a maleficar, but it's the sin of fornication that puts our souls at risk!" He raised an eyebrow as he buckled his armor. "Frankly, I don't see why we should consider it a sin at all. The Maker gave us these parts for a reason. Surely He would not want them to go unused. Especially not when he made using them so very, _very_ much fun."

"You are my new favorite theologian," I told him.

"And there we have a sentence I never expected to hear in my life." Laughing, we walked out the door and down the stairs to the common room where the others were waiting for breakfast.

"I ordered for you both," Leliana said as we sat. "Something Alistair assured me was appropriately bland and Fereldan for Maggie, and sweet cake for Zevran."

"Fantastic!" he said with a grin.

Once we had eaten and settled the bill our group set out. "You made quite the face back there," Alistair said to me as we left. I fished my purse out from under my belts and untied it, handing it over to Alistair. "Oh Maker," he groaned, looking inside. "That's all?"

"That's all," I said. "Right now I don't even know how we'll get to Denerim."

"We could try and limit spending," he suggested.

"I don't see _how_," I said. "The inns we can afford have such tiny rooms I'm amazed we can even fit two in each. I don't know how Leliana and Wynne shared a room, Zevran and I wouldn't have fit in the bed at the same time if he wasn't an elf and we didn't sleep close together." I sighed. "Thank the Maker Morrigan doesn't mind sleeping in animal form to save us money."

"It drives Wynne mad," Alistair said. "She seems to think that, because the spells aren't approved by the Chantry that means they're _forbidden_. Said it's wrong she has to sleep feet away from '_a maleficar practicing her forbidden magic_'." I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I know," he said. "She actually said you and Morrigan should share a room, and Zevran with Oghren."

Oghren _had_ been rooming alone, since Alistair and Sten weren't particularly fond of his evening binges. "I don't see why that would make a difference," I said. "Same number of rooms we need now, and I still have Dane to worry about. Morrigan _likes_ sleeping in her animal forms and he gets funny around her when she's like that."

"And that's what I told her," Alistair said. "Plus, that none of us want to deal with watching you and Zevran make puppy dog eyes at each other and giving you a room together let you get most of that out of your systems."

"Puppy dog eyes?"

"Don't even deny it."

"You're insane."

"Of course I am," he said. "Why else would I be friends with a lunatic like you? But this? I'm totally right." He stuck his tongue out at me and I couldn't help but laugh. "I think Wynne won't bring up you and Morrigan rooming together again, though."

"Oh?"

He cleared his throat dramatically. "You know, Maggie might actually like the idea, Wynne. She's been trying to get more time to spend with Morrigan so she could learn her spells!"

"Ooh, you're good!"

"I know," Alistair said with a smug grin. "Now she feels like letting you and Zevran continue on your indecent path is actually saving your soul from the damnation that is _forbidden magic._" He said the last two words in a dramatic voice, waving his fingers in the air.

"Indecent!" I said. Something about the word just seemed wrong.

"Well, perhaps you were screaming at him to… well, no, I can't fathom what you were ordering him to do harder and faster if it wasn't the obvious. Even _I'm_ not that innocent." He laughed at the expression on my face. "Funny, I only ever hear you curse like that when I'm stuck with the room next to the two of you."

I coughed involuntarily. I _really_ needed to keep my voice down in the future. Maybe there was a spell for that… it wasn't as though I set out to make noise or anything. It just… happened.

"Ha!" Alistair elbowed me. "I can't believe it. Is… is that a _blush_? Maker's breath, what's happened to you?" He glanced around. "Quick, where's Oghren. Let's see if his jokes still make you laugh!"

"Wha?" Oghren stumbled over, eyes bleary.

"Tell Maggie a joke!" Alistair demanded.

"Huh," he said. "_You_ want me to tell a joke?"

"The dirtier the better," Alistair said. "Trying to see if we can get Maggie to blush."

Oghren laughed. "All right. So, fellow walks into a tavern, gets himself a drink, and tries talking to a few ladies. One by one they turn him down. He's sitting there, drinking his drink and feeling sorry for himself when in walks the ugliest guy he'd ever seen. We're talking 'uglier than the messy end of the bronto' ugly here." Oghren pauses, laughing. "So not an hour later the ugly man leaves with a gorgeous lady on each arm. Fellow turns to the bartender and says 'what just happened there?' Bartender shakes his head and goes 'damned if I know how, but he does it every night. Walks in, orders a drink, and sits there licking his own eyebrows until they come to him.'" Oghren paused and looked up at us. Just before I doubled over laughing I saw a baffled expression on Alistair's face.

"Hey Zev," I shouted. He walked over from where he'd been loading things into the wagon. I told him the joke and he leaned against me, laughing as hard as I had.

"I wonder," he mused, sticking his tongue out. "Oh well," he said after several attempts to reach his eyebrows while I laughed even more. "Fortunately I think I am quite successful with what the Maker has given me, despite my inability to reach my own eyebrows with it."

"That would explain her screeching," Oghren said. I only gave him a satisfied smirk in response.

After we all stopped laughing Alistair looked at me and shrugged. "I don't get it."

Zevran snickered and Oghren actually slammed his hand to his forehead. "Boy, how do you ever expect to keep a woman?"

"Now I don't know if I _want_ to get the joke," he said. "No offense, Oghren, but you're not on the list of people I'd take advice from in that area. Didn't your wife leave you?"

"Aye," Oghren said. "For a woman. Which, if you ask me, is all the more reason for you to listen! And maybe grow a nice beard. Tickles the ladies just right."

"Actually, with this, he is right," Zevran said. "Except, perhaps, on the beard. I can honestly say that is never something I have missed. Come with me, my friend. It's time you were educated! Your wife will thank me someday."

Alistair gave me a panicked glance. "Hey, you started all this," I said with a shrug.

Oghren and Zevran dragged him off a few feet. I could see a flurry of obscene gestures, Alistair turning redder by the second. "Please tell me that was a lie," he said, stumbling back over to me. "They're having me on, right? Like the tattoo massage?"

"Well I don't know what they told you," I said. "How would I know if they're having you on?"

He sighed. "You're all in on this to make fun of me."

"Hey, if they told you the truth that could be some solid gold advice," I said. "Believe me: Zev knows what he's doing."

"It involved, um, mouths," he managed to stutter out.

I wondered if it was possible for someone to be embarrassed to death. "Well, unless he said to bite, I suspect it was the Maker's honest truth."

He made a face. "Ew."

"Oh, stop it."

"No, that is kind of… wrong," he argued. "I mean, no offense but…"

"You'll see."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're not normal, though."

"I'm not," I agreed. I'd figured that much out already, it was pointless to argue otherwise. "But this isn't why. Half the fun is making whoever you're with happy."

"Why Maggie," he laughed. "That sounds almost… _romantic_."

"You kidding me? You have no idea what an ego boost it is to have reduce an adult to an incoherent mess that can't do anything but moan your name. I wish I could bottle that feeling for whenever I don't like how my hair looks or something."

"Annnnd _there's_ the Maggie we all know and love," he laughed. "Thanks for that. Really. I'm going to have nightmares now, I hope you're happy."

"I'm always happy," I replied with a smirk. "Didn't you listen to Zevran?"

"Aaaarrrggghh!" he shouted, covering his face. "Mental image! Mental image! Make it stop!"

"Darkspawn!" I shouted.

He dropped his hands, reaching to his shield on his back and the sword at his hip. "Where?"

I shrugged. "Who knows. They're around somewhere, though. Lothering?"

"Then why did you just shout darkspawn?"

"Because it is impossible to think about sex and darkspawn at the same time. Believe me, if anyone could it would be me, and nope, can't be done."

He looked thoughtful. "You know, you're right. Now all I can think of are genlocks."

"See!" I grinned.

Once we set out the fortress began to grow larger. I had thought it was massive last night, but in the bright light of morning it was even bigger looking still. When we were perhaps two miles away Levi pulled back on the reins. "We have to travel by foot from here," he said. "It's all underground tunnels

Hopping down, I signaled to the Feddics. When their oxcart rolled to a stop Alistair was the first out. "Well, no darkspawn here," he said. "But…"

"The veil," I said quietly.

He nodded. Morrigan and I had been exchanging uneasy glances the closer we drew to our destination. "Wynne noticed it, too," he said.

"This will be fun," I said, rolling my eyes. No wonder Levi hadn't dared to get any closer. Even a normal person who didn't have the skills of a mage or training of a templar would probably feel their hair stand on end.

"No point putting it off," he sighed. "I'd feel bad leaving it like this anyways, now that we know." I nodded, understanding what he meant. Skipping the trip would have been one thing when it was just inconvenient. Now that we knew the building could prove a danger, well, it would be fairly irresponsible of us to just stomp off into the sunset.

Following him through the tunnels, I walked in front, Morrigan towards the middle of the group, and Wynne in the rear, each of us keeping a steady stream of magic to light the way. "Stop," I called to the group. Everyone gathered around me. "How are we on torches?"

"I've got half a dozen," Oghren spoke up.

"As do I," Zevran provided.

"Let's switch to those, then," I said. "I don't want all three mages to get there already worn out. That should be enough to make it the rest of the way while our mana replenishes."

"A wise decision," Morrigan said. Wynne had been nodding until she spoke, after that she just looked conflicted. Didn't like the idea of agreeing with Morrigan, I suppose. We all knew it had gotten progressively worse the closer we came to our destination, though. It seemed unlikely we would be able to get through this without any fighting.

I could finally see daylight once again. Jogging ahead, I winced. The damage to the veil was even more obvious from here. No doubt the source of the problem was very close. "Maggie?" I heard Morrigan call.

"I know," I said. "I noticed. On your guard, everyone." I heard the sound of blades being removed from sheaths.

"In my experience it is rarely a good thing when mages become this nervous," Zevran said from behind me.

"That would be everyone's experience," Alistair said before sucking in a breath. "Soldier's Peak," he gasped. "Would you _look_ at that! It's _huge_!" He walked forward, standing near me. "Seen better days, though. Better _centuries _more like."

Morrigan chuckled. I looked back in shock, wondering why she was laughing at one of Alistair's jokes. She winked. "Once the Wardens flourished, their ranks full, their caliber certain. Now they even accept people like _you_, Alistair." Ah, no wonder she was amused.

"Hey!" he said, glancing back.

"What do you think?" I asked him, not wanting the two to start arguing again.

"It's huge."

"We may end up living there, when all this is done."

He nodded. "Maybe. It would need a lot of work, though. It's been abandoned for centuries."

"Yeah, but once it's fixed up… imagine how many people we could fit there! Tons and tons of Grey Wardens!"

He looked thoughtful at that, glancing from one tower to the next just as I had been doing. I suspected that he, like me, was picturing blue pennants and banners sailing high on every tower, white griffins on each. Any thoughts of the future were shattered when we came to the portcullis; we walked headlong right into the past.

"Starve them out!" someone shouted. I looked around at the shadowy figures. The closest two were complaining about how difficult fighting had been, admitting their failure and suggesting waiting until the Wardens were too weak to go on. I made a face at the idea, it struck me as cowardly.

"Did… did you see that, too?" Levi asked, shuddering. "Am I going mad?"

"No, we all saw it," I said.

"But… how?"

"The Veil is thin here," I said.

"Veil?"

He sounded nervous. So, like an idiot, I told him what the veil was. Levi paled when I explained that the only barrier between our world and the demons of the fade was weaker than anywhere else. Probably would have been better off keeping that information to myself.

I could see evidence of a fight, but it had clearly been long ago. Bones littered the ground, remains of blue tunics on some, red and gold on others. Wardens and the king's army, then. Left where they had fallen, not cremated or even buried. How bad was this battle that the dead were neglected by both sides?

I walked forward, looking around. "By the Maker!" I heard someone gasp behind me. Spinning, I saw Wynne standing face to face with a Grey Warden. That wouldn't have been so bad, but Alistair and I were several yards away, and the Grey Warden currently unsheathing an enormous broadsword had been dead since the Storm Age.

"Oh good," Morrigan said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. "_These_ things again." With that complaint registered she unleashed a wave of energy that knocked several of them to the ground.

"One!" Zevran shouted, decapitating a skeleton with both blades.

"Three!" Alistair laughed, sending a head flying.

"Can we focus!" Wynne shouted.

"Competition breeds camaraderie!" Zevran said to her, before adding "Two and three!"

I could hear her mutter '_children'_ under her breath before I shouted "one, two, three, four, five _and_ six!"

"Area spells are cheating!" Alistair said.

"Are not!" I laughed before yelping in shock. Two had snuck up behind me, I was too close to get my staff between me and the monsters.

Both fell to the ground with a clatter, severed in half at waist height. "Got your back," Oghren announced as their collapse revealed him.

"You know," Zevran said as we looked around to make sure everything was dead. "Perhaps we should give you some basic training on a blade. Something small, for when an enemy gets too close."

"Maybe," I mused. "I suspect I'd be completely hopeless at something like that, though. I'm not very strong."

"You do yourself a disservice," he said as we walked up the stairs to the giant main doors. I only sighed as we wrestled the door open. Since he had to move me aside and open it for me there wasn't much I could say; I'd proven my point without even intending it.

We entered the Peak and, without warning, bumped right into a group of Grey Wardens. Dane whimpered, hiding behind my legs. Animals must be sensitive to the Fade. He always seemed nervous whenever we encountered damage to the veil. Frozen, our small party watched a slightly transparent woman in impressive armor giving a speech to an equally spectral group. If anything, it was concrete proof of what Duncan had told me about the egalitarian nature of the Grey Wardens. The spectral images were of humans, elves and dwarves. I saw men and women, people in armor and mage robes. Among the Wardens at Ostagar I'd been the only woman, and there was only one elf. The rest were human men.

"Maker's breath," Alistair gasped next to me.

"That's her!" Levi said. "That's Sophia Dryden, my great-great-grandmother!" He looked awed, not that I could blame him. It wasn't every day someone bumped into a relative that died centuries before they had been born. Jaw open, I watched her pace the room, slamming her armored fist into the opposite hand.

_"We are Wardens!" _she shouted at them._ "Darkspawn flee when they hear our call, archdemons die when they taste our blades!"_

"Wow," Alistair muttered again. I nodded. I suspect we were bit awed, too.

As the group faded Alistair and I looked at each other. "Can you believe that?" he said. "It's like an old legend come to life." He paused and shook his head in wonder. "No, it _is_ an old legend come to life. And did you hear her? What a speech!"

"I feel like I could take on King Arland myself right now!" Several sheets of vellum were tacked to a wall. We were able to make out the faded writing… it was a list of the Wardens who had stood against the king's army.

"About a hundred," Alistair said. "Against the _army_? How did they hold out for so long?"

I shook my head. "I can't believe it. You know what this tells me?"

"That the army they faced was pathetic?" Sten provided.

Alistair and I both looked at him, shocked. "No," Alistair said. "That isn't what I was thinking at all."

"Me neither," I said. "To me, this just confirms it. Grey Wardens are _awesome_."

"Exactly!" Alistair said, clapping his armored hand on my back.

Sten and Oghren both made noises of disbelief. Zevran laughed, though, and looked over at them. "Personally, I'll be very happy believing that is the case," he said. "After all, we're facing both Teyrn Loghain's army and the darkspawn horde, and we have only _two _of the fabled Grey Wardens among us. Let us hope that some legends are true for all our sakes."

"And now I'm scared," Alistair said. Hearing Zevran put it like that… well, he wasn't the only one.

* * *

_Happy New Year, everyone! _


	36. Well, you do a lot of walking

Once the vision had faded we continued on deeper into the fortress. The ground floor was mostly clear of problems. We didn't start fighting heavily until we reached the upper levels.

"Look at this," Alistair called over to me. I walked to his side and knelt down to examine the body he was focused on. We were outside the door of what looked to be a massive library, encompassing most of the level.

"He hasn't been dead as long as the others," I said. The body wasn't yet a complete skeleton; there were still bits of flesh clinging to the bones. Alistair made a noise of agreement. "Bear heraldry?"

"Amaranthine," he supplied. "The Arling's heraldry is a brown bear."

"Another over here," Zevran said.

Oghren walked over to us. "Two more this way."

"Perhaps this fortress has not been as forgotten as it initially seemed," Morrigan suggested. "It would appear these men attempted to retake it for the local lord… and failed."

None of us said anything more than brief comments of agreement. Her assessment seemed to be exactly what had happened. As we moved on, finding more bodies in a similar heraldry it appeared that another attempt was made at a much more recent date as well. Levi stayed well back of us, waiting until we cleared away the danger before catching up.

Cutting through what turned out to be _multiple_ libraries, I made everyone stop. "Maggie, this fortress belongs to the Grey Wardens, we already own these," Alistair said as I pulled books from the shelves. "We don't need to loot them from _ourselves_."

I jerked my head sharply, he sighed and walked closer. "Maybe some of those secrets _we_ don't know are in one of these books!"

His eyes went wide and, without a word, Alistair began pulling books down and flipping through them as fast as me. When Wynne approached and reached for them he gently held her hand back. "We don't know what's in these," he said. "It could be confidential Grey Warden information." She made a face but stepped back.

"Anything?" I asked him.

"A lot of records of the last Blight," he said. "Nothing helpful, though. Nothing we don't already know."

"Same," I said. We moved to another shelf. It was records of the blight _before_ that. Then a shelf of the blight before _that_ one. Two shelves of magic books, none of which contained anything I didn't already know, and several shelves of what looked to be recruitment records.

"Oh, this is grim," Alistair muttered. I looked over his shoulder. It was a list from a Joining that took place in the storm age. A dozen names were neatly written, five had the word "survived" printed to their right.

"Ouch," I muttered. "You ever wonder why…"

"Why some make it and some don't?" I nodded. "I do," he said. "Quite often. I wonder why I got lucky. If there was some way to tell in advance… but if there was, well, I'm sure over a thousand years someone would have figured it out, you know?"

"Yeah," I agreed. "I was surprised Daveth…"

"Me too," he admitted. "After our trip into the Wilds I didn't have high hopes for Jory, though. One of the others once told me that people who panic when they see the darkspawn seem to fare worse. Of course, by then there's no going back…"

"Neither did I," I agreed. Although who knows, he hadn't even gotten that far. Perhaps Jory could have proven both of us wrong.

He sighed. "Some day that could be us," Alistair said in an even softer voice. "Picking people, handing them the goblet…"

"Maybe," I said. "I don't think we need to worry about it for a long time, though. I mean, once this is over I'm sure they'll send someone older to take over. Someone experienced."

"True," Alistair agreed.

"I don't envy them," he said. "I don't know if I could do it, to be honest. Recruit people when I know it could be their death." Alistair leaned against the bookshelf, eyes downcast. "It really bothered Duncan," he whispered. "He didn't talk about it often, but when he did I could tell it was something that ate away at him even more than he let slip out. Not even _that_, but everything. When I screamed at him after finding out what happens to us later…" his voice cracked slightly "he looked so heartbroken. I feel horrible now, I know he had no choice, and he was as bad off as the rest- worse, since he would be leaving sooner. And really, I'm no worse than I was before. Dead or lyrium addled to the point that I don't know my own name? Not much difference as far as I see things."

"I'm sure he understood," I said. "Duncan was smart. He knew it was Alistair's _anger_ yelling, not Alistair."

"Maybe," he said. "He felt bad for you, too. The children thing. I mean, even a bunch of warriors know that's a big deal for most women."

"I'm not most women," I reminded him.

"Oh, I know. And he figured that out soon enough. Warned me about you."

I laughed aloud at that, attracting the attention of our companions across the room who were preparing a cold lunch. "Did he?"

"I was raised in the _Chantry_ and you, apparently, propositioned him before you even made it to Ostagar. Of course he warned me! I'm amazed he didn't call a meeting of everyone else!" Alistair shook his head. "You're a public menace!" I rolled my eyes and he laughed. "Or you _were_. Who would have guessed all it would take a well organized and highly expensive attempt on your life for someone to win your heart…" he sighed dramatically, smirking at me.

"You spend too much time listening to Leliana's love stories."

"Oh, riiight," he said. "That must be it, I'm sure. No wonder I started scratching my leg with my teeth after she told the story of Dane and the Werewolves."

"Well, they do say your line is descended from them," I laughed. "Come on, wolf-boy. We're not going to find anything helpful here. I guess they don't keep the good secrets in writing."

Alistair howled as he followed me back to our group. I was amused to see only Wynne looked confused by his behavior.

After a quick meal we continued further into the massive library. It seemed to occupy most of the floor. In the final room we were greeted by another vision. A young woman in mage robes was pacing nervously as an old man similarly attired was writing something down. "_The truth must be told!" _he was saying to her as she wrung her hands, looking nervously at the door. _"Our grand rebellion… to die a stillbirth_."

There was a crashing noise and a group of spectral warriors rushed past us into the room. As they drew blades on the two mages the scene vanished. "Rebellion?" I said. "The king didn't attack the Wardens- they _rebelled_?"

"The records are burnt," Alistair said. "Whatever he was trying to write… it's gone now."

I sat on my heels near him, looking for myself. I could make out a few words here and there, but it was mostly charred. "Rebellion is against everything Wardens should stand for," I said, climbing back to my feet. "We don't get involved in politics!"

"How is that different than your argument with Teyrn Loghain?" Levi asked me pointedly.

I narrowed my eyes. "Teyrn Loghain is actively fighting to prevent the Grey Wardens from defeating a blight. That's how it's different. We fight darkspawn. We end blights. We kill whoever gets in our way."

"You make it sound like he wants the darkspawn to win!"

"Only a Grey Warden can end a blight," I said. "We can kill the archdemon. He can't."

"But… why?"

Alistair and I exchanged a glance. We knew only a Warden could end a blight, Duncan had been quite clear on that with Alistair. We just didn't know why or how. "Warden secrets," Alistair said quickly. I nodded.

"I don't envy you," Levi said with a shake of his head, looking like he pitied us. As we continued on I looked over at Alistair.

"Well, it _is_ a secret," he said quietly. "Shame no one let us in on it, though." Morrigan glanced back at both of us. I briefly wondered if she had been listening, given her expression of concern. I think she was just annoyed to see me spending so much time speaking privately with Alistair, though. She still didn't trust him, or understand why I did.

We slowly reached the upper levels of the main building. "Ugh," I mumbled, pushing my hair back. "This is bad. Bad things ahead."

"Bad things?"

"Demon," Morrigan and Wynne said almost in unison. The two women briefly glared at each other.

"Come on," I said, not wanting to listen to anyone bickering. Everyone followed me up the stairs. After several large groups of skeletons attacked us I paused to regain my mana. "Look at this," I said, pointing to one of them. "Armor look familiar to you?"

Alistair made a face. "Loghain's armor looks the same."

"True," I said. "But Loghain wears the armor of the captain of the chevalier he defeated at the Battle of River Dane. It's chevalier armor."

"Chevalier?" Alistair looked closer. "Maybe they tried to retake the building, too. Back during the occupation."

"That's what I was thinking," I said.

Alistair looked at the body and laughed. I raised my eyebrow. "We're better than the chevalier," he said with a smirk. "They died. We didn't."

"And then we killed them again!"

"My father would be _so_ proud," he said in an overly dramatic voice, hand on his heart. I snickered, shaking my head, and guided everyone towards a door across the room.

We were confronted with yet another vision before we could reach the door. The same woman from downstairs, the Commander, stood with a young mage. "_Now, Avernus_!" she screamed. _"Now!" _I watched in horror as he began to move his hands, chanting in Tevinter. Wynne sucked in a breath as a spectral demon formed. _"More, Avernus,"_ she shrieked as the demon took off the head of one of the soldiers. He followed her orders, summoning more demons. Unsurprisingly, it didn't end well. As one began to turn on the Wardens the mage called for a retreat.

The vision vanished.

"Demons!" Levi gasped before any of us could speak. "They… they summoned demons. And my grandmother, she knew! She gave the order!"

"We don't forbid blood magic," I said. It was a lousy response, but he looked like his entire world was crushed, I couldn't think of anything else to reassure him beyond saying she was acting within the bounds of Warden rules.

Not the best plan. Levi looked disgusted. "I always thought my family was better than that," he said quietly.

"There may be more answers ahead?" I said, not sure what could justify that to him.

"Hopefully," he agreed.

I glanced around and sucked in a breath, jogging across the room. "Ooooh," I said, picking a staff up. It must have been dropped by one of the Warden mages all those years ago. I could sense power radiating from it. Power and _cold_. I sent an experimental bolt flying at one of the walls. A picture fell not far away as ice coated a large radius around my target. "Nice," I muttered.

"I take it you have found a new staff," Morrigan said, watching me.

"It's beautiful," I said, holding it up. It was in the Tevinter style, inlaid with a core of blue lyrium.

"Too… shiny," she said. "But it does look powerful." She glanced away briefly. "What will you do with your old staff?"

I took it off my back, glancing at the now-familiar leather wrapping and dangling teeth and feathers. "It's too nice to just get rid of it," I said. "Do you want it? I'd rather it still get some use than sit around, and don't like the thought of selling it."

She smiled, reaching out. I passed the staff to her. "I admit, I have always found this staff rather striking," she said. "And it does seem to be more powerful than my own."

"It's yours," I said, grinning. I'd rather she get use from it than some stranger, and making sure we all had the best possible equipment was wise.

Zevran laughed. I glanced over at him and he shook his head. "It is the Antivan in me… even with women in the Crows it is difficult to become accustomed to seeing two as stunning as yourselves gushing over new weapons."

I made a face at him. "You're just jealous because our stuff is nicer."

"I am!" he said with a laugh. "I wish I could wear fancy boots from the Imperium inlaid with sliver threads, instead of these horrid Ferelden monstrosities."

We all laughed as we headed over to a closed door. I paused in front of it. "Problem?" Zevran asked me.

"Demon," I said. "It's close."

He nodded, hand on my back. "So we kill one more demon, then. We're becoming quite the experts!"

I smiled at him and opened the door. I knew deep down there was nothing to worry about. Even if, for some crazed reason, I did try and bargain with it, the others would stop me in my tracks. It still made me nervous, though.

I walked into the room and glanced around. Gasping, I saw an armored woman standing behind a massive desk. "Stop…" she said in an eerie voice. "This one would speak with you." I shuddered as she turned around. This was no woman. Not anymore.

"I won't speak with your kind," I said quickly, grabbing my staff. The others were moving as fast as me.

"Then you are a _fool!_" she screamed. More than a dozen skeleton warriors rushed in. I focused on the demon, knowing she was the source of their power. Wynne, Alistair and Morrigan did the same, all knowing as much about demons as I did. While we froze, cut, and shocked her the others handled the defenders she had summoned. Finally, the body fell.

"I suspect we have killed more demons than any other non-mages in Thedas," Zevran mused, looking at her body.

"Probably," Alistair agreed. "The Chantry should give us an award."

"And money," Zevran added.

"Well… I'd hope money would be the award," Alistair admitted. "A heartfelt thanks from the Grand Cleric won't buy lunch." He was as worried about our financial situation as I was, apparently.

"That is the woman from the vision," Sten spoke up, glancing over our shoulders. "It seems she managed to get herself possessed."

"So it seems," I said. "That's some armor she's got, though." It was gleaming silverite, with blue enameled accents and two rearing griffons on the breastpiece.

"Tiny," Alistair said. "It wouldn't fit any of us."

"It's been altered," Zevran said, looking closer. "Used to be shorter, and broader in the chest and shoulders." He laughed. "She's wearing an elf's armor!"

"There have been elves in the Grey Wardens," I said. "Probably more elves than women, really."

"Ohh, you know, I wonder if it belonged to Garahel," Alistair mused.

"Now _that_ would be something!" I said. "Wow… Garahel!"

"Who was Garahel?" Zevran asked.

"Oh, I know that!" Leliana announced. "He was the hero of the fourth blight. He led the Grey Wardens to victory and freed Antiva from the darkspawn horde. He died in the battle of Ayesleigh after killing the archdemon. There is a very famous ballad of the battle, I've sung it several times. I am surprised you have not heard of him, Zevran!"

"As am I!" he agreed. "Had I known an elf personally saved Antiva from the blight I would have made a point of bringing it up as often as I could to the human crow recruits as a boy." He paused, grinning. "Although perhaps that is why they never told me."

I chuckled at that. "Not as though we'd ever know," I said. "It could just belong to some other elf who was Warden Commander."

"How many elves have there been who were Commander, though?" Zevran said. "Surely it can't be that common."

"If they were the right person I don't see why they wouldn't be picked," I said.

"An admirable attitude," Sten interjected. "It is wise to pick the most skilled, not simply the most skilled among a single race." Well, I suppose the qunari did the same, no wonder he was impressed.

"Then why don't the Qun do the same?" I asked, half teasing. "You only pick from the most skilled among a single _gender_, after all."

"_Parshaara_," he said with snort of annoyance. "This conversation again, Warden? I thought we had more important things to do than rehash old debates."

"Probably," I shrugged. "I was only teasing, anyways. I know not everyone can be as unquestionably awesome as the Grey Wardens."

Sten only rolled his eyes in response. From him that might as well have been a shout of annoyance, though. I figured it was best to shut up. Dropping to my knees I began to work the buckles of the armor free.

"Wait, we're taking it?" Alistair said. "I thought we just agreed it wouldn't fit any of us."

"I'm not leaving _Grey Warden_ armor on some demon!" I said. "Look at it, it's gorgeous. You want to leave this here?"

Morrigan chuckled. "You know," she said slowly, a grin spreading across her face, "there is _one_ Grey Warden it would fit."

"Look at her," Alistair said. "No way would that armor fit me. I couldn't get one arm into it if I used both sleeves at once."

She sighed. "You are _not_ the only Grey Warden present, Alistair," Morrigan said in an exasperated tone. "I was implying that the late Commander Dryden seems to be close to the same size as Maggie."

"Oh, she is," Leliana spoke up. "Even close to the same height, I think."

"I don't think my backside's that big," I said more to myself than anyone else. "Or my legs, for that matter. Right?" Everyone was quiet. "Thanks," I muttered.

"Well, you do a lot of walking," was all Leliana said after an uncomfortable silence.

I just sighed and continued removing the armor. That done, I set it in a neat pile outside the door. "Let's grab this on our way out," I said. "Maybe my enormous ass will be less horrifying if I can encase it in silverite."

"Stop complaining," Zevran said. "Some of us happen to be rather fond of that part of your body." He punctuated this with a smack to the area in question. Wynne, to no one's surprise, made a sound of annoyance as I giggled.

We passed through what looked to be a small chapel, but the only worshipers were more skeletons. They seemed far more interested in killing us than reciting the Chant, sadly. "Huh," I said, grabbing a jar and sniffing it.

"What are you _doing!"_ Alistair shouted, pulling it from my hand after a stuck a finger in and licked it clean.

"What?" I said. "It's jam. Raspberry."

"How do you know that?" he said, staring at me like I'd gone mad.

"Because it _is_. Smell it. Seriously, raspberry jam. Pretty good, too. We should keep it, maybe we can get some bread in the next town we pass through."

"We're _not_ keeping jam that's been sitting in a demon infested building surrounded by corpses for centuries!" he said. "Maker's breath, there are some things even _I _won't eat. Are you insane?"

I shrugged. "Perfectly normal jam to me," I said.

He just gave me another horrified glance and shook his head. We continued on.

"Now this," I said as we slowly crossed a narrow bridge, "is just poor design."

Alistair yelped as a gust of wind caught him and dropped to his knees. "Agreed!" he said. "Would a railing be too much to ask for?"

"Just don't look over the edge," Zevran said. "We killed the guards, keep looking forward."

Of course, I did the first thing anyone would when they were told not to look over the edge. "Oh Maker…" I muttered, stumbling back. Zevran grabbed me by the waist. "Go too far back to avoid that side and you'll tumble from the other," he said. "_Walk_. The faster we move the faster we're back indoors."

Oghren grumbled, literally crawling. "Up in the air..." he muttered. "This just isn't natural!"

I nodded with a shudder and we continued on. There were several traps Zevran and Leliana had to disarm, the rest of us kneeling on the stone so we wouldn't be blown over the edge, but eventually we made it to the far side. Where more skeletons were waiting for us.

"I'm starting to see the real reason we cremate the dead," I muttered, blowing one up with a spell. "Seems like it's the only way they stay down!"

"Disturbing thought," Alistair said.

We glanced around the room. A few books were lying about. I glanced at one, kneeling on the floor. Alistair read over my shoulder.

_"Horrifying,"_ he muttered.

Unfortunately at the same time I had said "_fascinating_."

"What?" Alistair glared at me.

"It's fascinating," I said. "I mean, the methods are horrifying, but his actual goal… the utilization of the taint as a weapon? Making Grey Wardens even more powerful? Really interesting."

He gave me a disgusted look. "Some things just aren't done," Alistair said. "He experimented on other Wardens!"

"And that's horrible," I agreed. "I'm just saying, that aside, his research is solid. I can't find a single false conclusion anywhere in here. He's onto something." I shook my head. "Shame it'll never be duplicated. I mean, researching on people… ugh. If there was a way to do it without hurting anyone…" I picked up the book and slipped it into my pack.

"You're keeping it? Why?"

"Because some was complete. I might be able to recreate the potion he finished. It could help us."

"I won't touch anything that was created through torturing people," Alistair said. "I can't believe you would!"

"Yeah, the Joining was a bloody walk in the park," I snorted. "And it has such glowing results every time."

"Not the same thing!"

"No, because we make sure the deaths aren't in vain! Using this could mean the people died for a reason!" He just shook his head, clearly disagreeing.

"I would not touch that," I heard Morrigan say. Glancing over I saw Zevran looking at a small bottle. "I suspect this is the result of whatever research they are discussing, and it has a distinctly _darkspawn_ smell about it."

"Give me that," Alistair said, rushing forward. "I'm getting rid of the filth."

I glanced from him to Zevran. "No!" I shouted, bolting forward and shoving Alistair aside. I grabbed the bottle and he tried to wrestle it from me. "Stay back!" I ordered Dane. The last thing I wanted was to trip over my own dog and break the very potion I was trying to save.

"Maggie, will you give it to me? We're not using anything made by that maniac. He was mad! He was a killer!"

"And we're not?" I said, holding tighter. "You saw the notes. Stronger! Faster! We could use that!"

"And if it's wrong!" He was still trying to get the bottle. I had doubled over, shielding the fragile glass with my body.

"It's not!" I said. "It's good research! His methods were wrong, but his conclusions were right. You read it yourself!"

We continued grappling, the others watching nervously from the sidelines. "She is right," Morrigan called from the corner. "He appeared to be careful, accounted for all variables, and recorded everything in extensive detail. I doubt I could do better myself."

"That is made from the _blood_ of _dead Wardens!_"

"It is not!" I snapped.

"I wasn't—ugh," he grunted as I elbowed him, darting across the room. I wasn't being fair, I knew that. Alistair was too worried about actually hurting me, since he was so much stronger. "I wasn't being _literal_!" he snapped. "We can't use that. It would be wrong!"

"We need to study it!" I countered.

"I'm getting rid of it the second you fall asleep," he countered. "Might as well let me now." He started walking slowly towards me, hand out. Before he could reach me I uncorked the bottle. "Maggie…" Alistair said. "What are you doing?" He started moving faster. I clenched my eyes closed and lifted the bottle, tipping the contents into my mouth. "No!" Alistair screamed.

I gasped, doubling over. It was a pain unlike anything I'd felt since the joining. _Maybe he was right,_ I thought to myself as the glass shattered near my feet.

"No!" Alistair said again as he reached me. He had his hands on my shoulders, Zevran close by. I blinked a few times as the pain faded.

"Wow," I muttered.

He stepped back as I straightened up. "You… you're all right?" Alistair asked.

"Never better," I said with a grin. "Wow. I feel _fantastic_."

"What was in that?" Zevran asked.

"You don't want to know," I told him. "Trust me on that."

"Charming," he sighed. "Normally I do not object to your tendency to put things in your mouth, but this day has been a bit much for me. Perhaps you could, I don't know, _stop_ that?" he glanced at me, eyebrow arched. "At least until we go to bed, that is."

"Ugh," was all Alistair said before turning his back on Zevran. "I can't believe you did that. Are you completely mad? It could have killed you!"

I shook my head. "I'm smart enough to understand his research," I said.

"Oh, and I'm _not_?"

"Not what I mean. I mean I'm smart enough to understand it, but I never would have been able to _do_ it. Whoever that mage was, he was brilliant. A genius. Way beyond my level. Probably beyond the level of most of my teachers. I knew it was right."

He sighed, covering his eyes. "How do you feel?" Alistair asked after a moment.

"Like I could fly! Like I could rip an ogre apart with nothing but my teeth and nails. Like nothing can stop me. It's fantastic; I've never felt so good in my life. You should have listened, we could have split it!"

Alistair sighed. "Something tells me this isn't necessarily a _good_ thing."

* * *

_So I made it AOA cannon that Maggie drank the potion. But even she isn't crazy enough to be all 'oh, dusty old vial of blood. bottoms up!' So I spent ages trying to figure out why she would have done it. _

_I know I went wildly off cannon with the architecture of the Peak but the building is immense on the outside. I'm thinking that it's being only two stories internally is gameplay mechanics, nothing more. _

_Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing!_


	37. I haven't always been 230 years old!

We continued deeper into the tower after I'd spent a few moments running around the front room, laughing at how much energy I now possessed. Alistair eventually grabbed me by the shoulders and demanded I knock it off.

"You're just jealous there's no more potion for you!" I said.

"Yes, that's exactly it." He rolled his eyes.

"All right, fine," I muttered. "Let's go."

We continued upwards, working our way to the top of the tower. "Someone's here," Morrigan said as we approached what I thought would be the top floor. "A mage."

"I noticed it as well," Wynne grudgingly agreed.

Pushing open an ancient wooden door we walked into what looked to be a cross between a laboratory. "I hear you," an ancient voice called. "Don't interrupt my concentration." We walked closer and I gasped as an ancient mage turned away from his worktable to approach us.

"The old Warden mage?" I said, shocked. His ears were fairly… distinctive. The man in the vision had apparently been rather blessed in the ears department by the Maker, and this one was no different. Even if he did look every day of his two hundred or so years.

"But… how is such a thing possible?" Zevran said, staring at him in shock.

The old man issued a dry chuckle. "The Chantry foolishly forbids blood magic. I used it to extend my life so I could find a way to stop the plague of demons. It seemed a worthwhile goal. I assume your group is responsible for the reprieve?"

"That was us," I agreed.

"Wardens?" he said, glancing at Alistair and then me.

"We are," I agreed. "There's a blight."

"So I thought," he muttered, looking unhappy with the prospect. Oh, very helpful on his part. Alistair and I exchanged a glance, he shrugged. Really, we couldn't take him _with_ us. He'd probably break a hip just trying to get down the tower stairs.

"Careful," Leliana said. "This man has dabbled in matters forbidden by the Maker... he may look frail but don't trust him." I looked at her and raised my eyebrow. She blushed slightly, glancing at her feet.

"So the Maker told you that, did he?" The old man sounded amused. "Short-sighted men have forbidden my research, not any god."

"Chantry or no, you shouldn't have experimented on your fellow Wardens!" Alistair said, enraged. "Those were your brothers!"

"You wouldn't give your life if the research could perfect the Joining?" Avernus asked him, eyebrow raised. "What is one life if it saves thousands in the long term? What is one life if every Warden who comes after is twice as powerful? Twice as effective against our enemy?" He pounded a fist into his open palm. "Did you think 'any means necessary' were mere words?" Alistair didn't say anything and Avernus only grunted, apparently vindicated.

Levi asked him about his great-great-grandmother, looking for some kind of proof, but he only offered vague memories. I suspected their relationship was slightly more than comrades in arms, but that wasn't exactly something I wanted to focus on given the demon-infested state of Sophia and the older-than-Andraste state of Avernus. Some visuals I could live without.

I tried to find out more about the rebellion, but his answers were just as disjointed and vague. "You shouldn't have summoned so many demons," I finally said.

"It was necessary!" he snapped.

"They turned on you!" I snapped back. "You couldn't control them!"

He sighed, leaning back. "You… may be right," he admitted. Of course I was right, we'd all seen them turn on him!

Finally he asked if we would hold off on 'vengeance' until after the demons had been defeated. I didn't know quite why, as I saw nothing we needed to seek vengeance for, but agreeing was easier than arguing.

Returning to the area where the initial vision of their battle appeared, Avernus slowly unmade each summoning circle, one after the other. As he did we fought wave after wave of demons and undead. Finally, with a desire demon, it was over.

"Huh," I said, looking down at the fading body. "Wouldn't have expected that."

"Me neither, actually," Alistair said. "I would have guessed pride." I had been thinking the same thing. Although perhaps the pride demon didn't make it through before the circles closed. That was likely as well, since the building still didn't feel _right._

"So, what happens now?" Avernus asked us. Well, no, he asked me. I was getting strangely used to everyone looking at me for answers, though.

"I won't be your judge," I said. "You didn't break any rules of the order I know of." Well, he had dabbled in politics, but really, that was Sophia, not him.

"Is this wise?" Wynne said. "This man admits to being a maleficar, he has summoned demons. You truly intend to leave to his own devices?" I had wondered if she actually believed that 'secret warden magic' nonsense, or if she simply went along with it after seeing the greater necessity. Apparently she did! I hoped I wouldn't be that gullible by the time I was her age. Although it was rather good for me that she was.

"Grey Wardens use any means necessary," I said.

"Surely there are limits to what is acceptable! Even Wardens know there are boundaries. However you spin your web of rationalizations, consorting with demons is evil."

Avernus looked at her, taking in the robes and staff. "The Chantry has done such a fine job of indoctrinating you, haven't they?" I tried not to snicker.

"Wynne, I'm not about to send another Warden off to the _templars_, so don't even ask." She started to say something else but I kept talking. "Since neither I nor Alistair are his commanding officer I don't see where we have the right to decide his fate. Technically he's senior to both of us."

"By a few centuries," Alistair said.

"Charming," Avernus replied, rolling his eyes.

While she sputtered in rage, I turned to Avernus. "Can we speak in private?" I asked him. "The three of us?" That got us another protest from Wynne, who apparently feared he would corrupt us with his evil without her watchful eyes. I ignored her.

"Of course," he said. I followed him to a side room, after I pulled at his arm Alistair came along with us.

"So," I said once he closed the door, "we're Grey Wardens."

"I am aware of that," he said. "I can sense others of the order. You're both quite new but given time you will be able to do the same. I'm sure your superiors can tell you about it."

"See, that's the thing," Alistair said. "We don't have any. Superiors, that is."

He stared at us. "What are you saying?"

"We're the _only_ Grey Wardens," I said. "At least, the only ones in Ferelden. The others all died in battle, at Ostagar. I'd only been a warden for a day or two before that happened, Alistair six months. Teyrn Loghain had the order declared traitors. He said the loss was our fault and won't let any in to help with the blight. Since the king also died in the battle he's acting Regent. His daughter was queen-consort."

"Brilliant," he muttered. "He's leaving it all to you? Why, because you are Ferelden-born?"

"Actually, we're being hunted," I said. "There's a price on our heads."

Avernus made a face. "That is idiotic even by the low standards I hold most nobility to."

"Sad thing is he was born a commoner," I said, following it up with a quick summary of Ferelden history in the last hundred years.

"So we celebrate our independence from Orlais by handing the nation over to darkspawn?" he shook his head. "Everyone knows only a Grey Warden can end a blight."

"Right," I said. "So… how?"

"Pardon?"

"How do we end the blight?" I repeated. "I mean, is there some trick to it? Something special we need to do once we fight the archdemon? Is just being a Grey Warden enough? What do we _do_?"

"Well… you kill the archdemon," he said slowly.

"But… how?"

He sighed, putting his hands to his face. "Damn this order and its infernal obsession with secrecy," the old mage muttered. Looking up he glanced at us with pity. "That I don't know," he said quietly. "Not if it is any different from how one would normally kill a dragon."

"You don't _know_?" Alistair said, horrified.

"I haven't always been two hundred and thirty years old," he snapped. "I had only been a Warden five years when Arland wiped us all out. Some secrets are revealed only to the Commander, their lieutenant… the most senior members. I was senior among mages, but not a senior Warden. Sophia… she never told me." He groaned, sitting on an old crate. "I've read every book in this tower. If there is a secret to it no one has bothered to write it down."

"Maker's breath," I grumbled. "You know, this sort of thing is why secrets are a bad idea. Just… tell everyone the whole deal as soon as they wake up. So if everyone dies the survivors aren't stumbling blind."

"How common could it really be, though," Alistair said.

"Well, it's happened twice in Ferelden alone," I replied. "And with the way they coddle the newest people and put the oldest at the head of the battle I'm sure it'll happen again."

"I wish I could be more help," Avernus said. "I don't think I would be much use in battle, though."

"It's all right," I said. "Would you mind if we stayed in your tower for the night?" I asked. "We won't make it to another inn before dark and it's pretty cold out."

"Of course," he said. "Why _do_ you have an elderly Loyalist mage with you?" he asked us.

"She's an excellent healer," I said. "Morrigan and I- that's the other mage- we can't really heal."

"Not surprising. Few healers become maleficarum," he said in a quiet voice. When I gasped the old man only chuckled. "It's got a smell unlike other magics, after a few centuries I've come to recognize it" he said. "But don't worry, your secret is safe with me, sister. To be frank, I'd be rather disappointed in you as a Warden if you weren't, given the dire circumstances you face." Oh good, I had the approval of the crazy old demon-summoner. That was just lovely. Didn't stop me from giving Alistair a smug look. He shook his head before Avernus went on. "I remember when I made the decision. It was after a deep roads research excursion. We were attacked by a large group; I used too much lyrium and nearly stumbled into some lava. One of the other wardens was stabbed when he stopped to grab me by the back of the robes before I could fall. Fortunately I was able to heal him, but I decided I would use lyrium as a last resort from then on."

"I charged a broodmother," I said quietly. "She grabbed me in one of those tentacles and nearly squeezed my head off."

"It was horrifying," Alistair admitted.

He nodded.

"So here's a question for you," Alistair said before we left to rejoin the others. "She drank your potion. Will we find her dead in her tent tomorrow?"

"Only if someone kills her in her sleep," Avernus answered quickly. "You think I never tested it on myself? I can assure you it has had no adverse effects on my lifespan." He gave us another of those dry old man laughs once again.

"So what _will_ it do?"

"It's already done," he said. "More energy and strength, just as my research said. The ability to utilize the taint in our blood as a weapon in itself."

"All that?" Alistair said. "No downsides?"

"Well, I'd suggest having extra food on hand from now on," he said. Alistair groaned at that. "Other than that, nothing really. Maybe a bit of recklessness, but that's the result of suddenly being stronger and more energetic, not the potion itself." He looked at Alistair. "I have more, if you would like—"

"No," Alistair said. "That's quite all right."

"Suit yourself," Avernus replied with a shrug. "I would think two Wardens faced with ending a blight alone would look for any advantage they could get."

"Yes, well… some of us have our limits," Alistair replied coolly.

"All right," I said, not wanting to listen to them fight, "let's get back to the others before Wynne explodes with rage."

We slept in the lower levels of Avernus' tower that night, leaving at first light. Levi Dryden parted ways with us, saying his family would probably stay on at the vigil as a basis for their trading operations. I stashed a few crates he and Bodhan had been carrying for us there, figuring it was as secure a storage location as we could hope for.

Avoiding the city of Amaranthine, which would no doubt be crawling with Howe and Loghain's men, we began cutting southeast almost immediately. Unfortunately that meant we had to make camp outdoors on the first night.

Wynne had complained nonstop about leaving Avernus at the Peak. "He is a maleficar," she said over and over, as though we simply weren't aware of it. "This is absurd. You're not going to leave that monster there without punishment, are you?" she demanded of me.

I stormed over to Wynne as soon as we made camp. It really seemed she had no idea what a Warden actually did. "Do you think I'm supposed to be some kind of hero?" I demanded. "Yes, we protect people from darkspawn. But that's all people, everywhere. So if killing twenty, or fifty, or two hundred innocents means I'm better able to defend the millions who live in Thedas, then that's what I'll do. I'm not his judge, but if I was, I'd say he _did his job_." She stared at me, open mouthed and silent, so I turned on my heel.

I sat next to Morrigan, telling her what happened. I knew Wynne would never follow me to her remote fire on the edge of our camp. Leliana and Zevran had taken their bows to the woods to attempt and catch dinner. "What else would you expect from one such as she?" the apostate said with a shrug. "She was not torn from her family, she was not rejected by the fools that bore her because of a talent they understand nothing about. She is loyal to that prison to her very core and cannot _fathom_ a life free from it. Of course she defends their absurd moralities."

"I should have known," I said. "Just… ugh, where does she get off questioning me on Warden business?"

"Watch out," Morrigan had warned me. "She's off to pour more foolishness in the ear of that Chantry boy." We had observed their exchange from a distance, unable to hear them. She said something, talking at length and looking furious and horrified. Alistair gave her a short reply and Wynne walked off without another word.

Sighing, I went over to Alistair. "What was that about?" I asked, plopping next to him near the fire.

He looked up from polishing his armor. "Wynne thinks you are _morally unfit_ to lead," he said. "She wants me to take over."

"And your opinion?" I asked. I wasn't horrified by the thought of giving up leadership, but I'd rather know if Alistair also thought I was bereft of morals.

He sighed, looking into the fire. "I don't like it," Alistair said. "He's a monster. He deserves no better than death. But…" he rubbed his neck, sighing. "But you're right. You both were, you and Avernus. He didn't break any of the rules of the order, and _any means necessary_ aren't just words. I hate what he did, but…"

"He did the right thing for a Warden," I finished.

"He did," Alistair agreed. "It would be worth a dozen deaths if we could find a way to make sure no one died in the Joining. Or even just to make us more powerful against the darkspawn. That's the only reason we exist, I know that." He looked into the fire, wincing. "I just wish doing the right thing as a Warden was doing the right thing as a _person_."

"We both knew it wouldn't always be," I said. "Well… we knew eventually."

"Eventually," he agreed.

"If you did before… would you still have joined?"

Alistair paused, thinking as he rubbed his armor with a cloth. "Yes," he said finally. "After all, templars do things just as ugly, and that was my only other option. And despite what the Grand Cleric might think, the blight poses a lot more danger than a bunch of mages ever could."

I sighed. "They blame us for the blight too, you know. We had to learn the whole story. Tevinter magisters invading the Golden City, being cast down by the Maker, and becoming the first darkspawn. All mages' fault." I sighed. "I really hate getting blamed for horrible things that happened hundreds of years before I was born." Stretching my legs to warm them, I couldn't help but shake my head. "Mages like Avernus don't make the rest of us look much better, though."

"No, they really don't," Alistair said. "Letting him go doesn't help, either."

"You think that's it? I did it because he's a mage?"

"I know it isn't," Alistair said. "Try telling Sten that, though."

"Sten hates mages," I said. "I think he's only happy if he can pretend I'm neither a mage nor a woman."

"The second is a lot easier to believe," Alistair said. "You're worse than some of the boys I knew in the monastery."

"That's not true," I laughed.

"No," he said. "You're worse than _all_ the boys I knew in the monastery!" Alistair shook his head, laughing. "Poor Zevran."

"Poor Zevran?" came a voice from behind us. I grinned, seeing Zevran and Leliana each holding a bird. "Believe me, such a thought has never crossed my mind. Other than, of course, the most literal meaning. Since I am, of course, the _very_ poor Zevran. No wonder we have to hunt for supper." He made a face. "Such sickly looking geese, too."

"The food isn't as important as the company," I said.

"That is a wonderful sentiment," Leliana said, smiling as she plucked feathers.

"That is the sort of thing you learn to say when you have to eat the _tranquil's_ cooking for years," I laughed, gesturing for the bird. Leliana passed it to me and I cast a spell, burning off the last of the feathers. A moment later she passed me the other one.

* * *

After dinner Zevran and I took our usual watch, sitting close together by the fire. "You did the right thing," he said quietly.

"I know," I said. "He didn't break any rules of the order, that's all that matters."

He shook his head. "Not only that," Zevran said. "What would have happened if you delivered a two century old maleficar Warden into the hands of the templars? The Chantry would take a very, _very_ close look at any mages within the Grey Wardens."

I shuddered at the thought. "You're right," I said.

"Of course I am," he said. "I, for one, want no priest or templar breathing down our necks."

I glanced over at him in shock. He had said _our_. "Me neither," I agreed, sliding closer to him. Zevran smiled, putting his hand on my knee.

The next day we cut south, bypassing the city of Amaranthine. Alistair and I stopped everyone near the border and finally decided it simply wasn't worth the risk. Going to Denerim would be difficult enough, but Amaranthine had been in control of the Howe family for almost as long as there had _been_ a Ferelden. It would be crawling with people loyal to him. We might as well take a vacation in Gwaren if we were feeling suicidal.

Once we were past the city we switched back to main roads, traveling south down what Alistair called the Pilgrim's Path. It was dotted with statues of various religious figures so I suppose the name fit.

Finally we reached Denerim. It was unchanged from when I was there with Duncan, so long as you could disregard the filthy blackened snow filling the streets. Morrigan spun on her heels, looking all around. "I've never seen so many people and merchants," she gasped. "'Tis always so?"

"It was the last time I was here," I said.

Alistair was checking a crumpled piece of paper and glancing around. He poked me in the shoulder. "There," he whispered, pointing to the doorway of a poor looking timber house, wedged between two shops.

"That's her house?" I asked.

He nodded. I left him standing, straring at the doorway, and returned to the others. "That's his sister's house," I whispered. "Not sure how long we'll be."

"Are you going with him?" Leliana asked.

I shrugged. "I was going to wait outside, but I figured he'd want someone out here to talk to after."

She nodded. "That is a good idea."

I sent most of them off to listen for useful gossip or, if possible, news of nearby Dalish clans. Not that I thought we would be so lucky. "Wynne, I have a special job for you," I added. She raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, this I must hear," Zevran said. I grinned at him and winked at Leliana.

I grabbed my small purse and passed it to her. "Supplies," I said. "Socks for everyone, soap, and dried foods."

"And why is this a special job for me?" she asked.

I grinned. "Because I want you to aim that guilt you normally direct at me at some of those shopkeepers and get us a discount!"

She stared at me in shock for a moment before chuckling. "I think I can manage something," Wynne said after a moment. She looked in the purse. "I don't know if this will be enough, though."

"It'll have to be," I said. "That's all we have besides what we need for the inn tonight."

Her blue eyes widened in horror. "This is—"

"All we have, yeah," I finished. "Why do you think we steal?" I whispered. "Grey Wardens are funded by stipends from the Crown. Those stipends don't get paid if you're declared a traitor!"

"Maker's breath," she gasped. "Well, I will do my best."

"Can't ask anyone for more than that," I said cheerfully. "I'm sure you'll do much better than me, I'm no good at bargaining. Mostly because I barely know what things cost normally."

"It takes some time," she confided quietly. "I was almost twice your age before I was comfortable shopping outside the tower."

She smiled, pleased to be singled out for something special, and walked off. Zevran and Leliana looked at me. "So, is a bargain-hunting old lady a good enough distraction?" I asked them.

"Perfect," Leliana giggled.

"Just don't get arrested, we _really_ can't afford to spring you!" I said, giggling as they went to steal in Wynne's wake. I returned to Alistair's side. He was still staring at the doorway, hand against the back of his neck.

"It looks…"

"Very, very poor," I finished after a moment. He nodded. "Well, it's no sin to be poor," I said. "We're not exactly wealthy ourselves, you know. You know I had to send Wynne out with instructions to bargain with shopkeepers, and Zev and Leliana after her with instructions to grab what we need while the shopkeepers are distracted by her bargaining."

"I think _that _may be a sin," Alistair said, adding "but it is better than all starving to death or freezing solid before we can end the blight, so yes, I understand," before I could argue. He sighed, looking at the door. "I just… I don't know… hoped someone would have seen to her." He shrugged. "Silly, isn't it? I mean, I was the king's son and I slept in a pile of hay before I was shipped to the Chantry, so it isn't like they saw to me all that well."

"In a decent world I'm sure someone would have."

"This isn't a decent world?" he looked over at me, surprised.

"Of course it's not," I said. "You can't honestly think it is, can you?"

"How very optimistic," he said drily.

I shrugged. "Not sure what you want me to tell you. You were dumped off on the Chantry, I was raised a prisoner, Zevran sold as a slave… these aren't thing that happen to children in decent worlds."

He sighed. "I suppose we can just try and make it better."

"We can," I agreed. "You going to knock?"

He wrung his hands. "I… do you think I should? Do you think she's inside?"

"Only one way to find out," I said.

He nodded. "Let's go see," he said.

"You don't want to meet her alone?" I asked. "I can wait outside for you."

Alistair froze, clearly not wanting to go in alone. I grabbed his arm and led him to the door. "Come on, let's go see." Before he could stop me I banged my fist on the door.

I harried looking woman opened the door a moment later. "You got linens to wash?" she barked out, several small faces peeking around her skirt. She then went off on a rant about someone named Natalia who was, apparently, a competing washer woman.

"Um, no," Alistair said. "No washing. I'm…" he blushed and tried to give her a charming grin. "I'm your brother."

"My what now?" she said, eyes narrowed. "What kind of joke is this?"

"Are you sure this is the right house, Alistair?" I asked.

"Positive," he said. "You're Goldanna, right?" he asked her. She nodded. "Well… my name is Alistair and my mother was a servant at—"

"You!" she said before he could finish. "I knew it! They told me you was dead, you along with mother. I knew they was lying!"

He looked horrified by that thought. "No… I'm not dead. Who told you that?"

"Thems at the castle!" she said, sounding exasperated. "I said the babe was the kings and they gave me a gold coin to keep my mouth quiet and said he was dead."

"I'm sorry," Alistair said quietly. "I… I didn't know. He didn't die… he's me. I'm… um, your brother."

She made a face. "For all the good it does me! You killed our mother, and I've had to scrape by ever since! That coin didn't last, and when I went back they ran me off!"

"That isn't his fault!" I said, unable to help myself from butting in.

She glared at me. "And who are you supposed to be?" she asked. "Some tart following after his riches?"

I rolled my eyes. "You have riches?" I asked Alistair drily. "Holding out when we had to eat squirrel last night?"

He was glaring at her. "Don't speak to her that way!" Alistair said, angry. "She's my friend, and a Grey Warden just like me."

From there, well, it only went downhill. She thought his comment about us being Wardens was putting on airs, he tried to explain, and she all but demanded that he give her money. Which, of course, was one thing we didn't have. Even if we could afford it, I'd given our communal purse to Wynne.

"Let's go, Alistair," I said quietly.

He nodded in misery and followed me out. "That wasn't what I expected," he said as we sat leaning against the wall of a tannery.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"This is the family I've been wondering about all my life? That shrew is my sister? I can't believe it!"

"I can't believe they told her you were dead!"

"Me neither," he agreed. "But all she seemed to want was money!"

"Most people only look out for themselves," I said. "They have to, no one else will."

"You're probably right," he said softly. "It didn't look like she'd had an easy life."

I nodded. "It makes me feel kind of bad. As awful as the Circle was… I never went hungry."

"She was a real bitch, but those kids behind her, my nieces and nephews…" He put his face in his hands briefly. "Maybe once the blight is over, if I'm still… well, maybe I can do something to help _them_ at least." Alistair climbed to his feet. "Thanks for coming with me," he said.

"Any time," I said, standing up. "Who needs family? Friends are better. Friends care because they actually like you, not because they're related to you."

"I suppose," he said.

"Besides," I added, trying to cheer him up, "you've got another family." I tugged gently on the Warden's Oath pendant he wore.

He did smile at that. "You've got a point," Alistair said. "Well, come on, sister, let's go see if we need to spring our pet assassin and bard from jail."

"Lead the way, brother," I replied.

Alistair paused. "Well, that's no good, I've only been to Denerim once and all I managed then was to get pickpocketed. I've got no idea where to go."

"I've only been to Denerim once and all I saw was the inside of a tavern," I replied. "I did make a templar buy me a drink while we waited for Duncan to come back and prove I was allowed to be out of the tower, though."

"How did you manage that?" he asked.

"Hey, I'm _very_ charming," was all I replied. Alistair laughed, and we wandered blindly into the city, hoping we would at least manage to accidentally bump into someone we knew.

* * *

_I really hate how the only option to get Alistair to__ stick up for himself involves being a royal bitch. There are nicer ways to make a point._

_Too much straight from game dialogue for my tastes. _

_Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing!_


	38. There's that naivety again

Alistair and I bumbled through the market district of Denerim aimlessly. Eventually we managed to bump into Zevran, who handed me a pile of coins with a wink. "Come with me," he said, sounding amused.

Alistair and I shared a glance and shrugged, following him. Wynne, Leliana, Morrigan, and Oghren were looking at a poster on the wall, Sten must have been off somewhere with Dane. He had taken a liking to my dog. I suspected he liked my dog much more than he liked me.

"Oooh," I said, reading the poster.

"Well now," Alistair said at the same time. "That's good to see."

"Wait, what," Zevran said, looking at both of us.

"What what?" I asked. "It's nice. I'm glad not everyone thinks we're king-killing lunatics. Ooh, we should go meet them! I bet they would feed us." A secret meeting of Grey Warden supporters seemed an excellent opportunity to mooch, what with being the only two Grey Wardens in the country.

Zevran put a hand to his forehead, looking frustrated. "You… do not think this seems a bit too convenient?" he asked. "After all, it is only a few feet down from your wanted poster."

"We have a _wanted poster?_" Alistair was horrified.

"I want to see!" I ran in the direction he had indicated. "Oh, come _on_," I said, seeing it. Alistair and I were both drawn to look considerably older than we really were, and about as evil as they could make us. "That barely looks like me. My teeth aren't pointy."

"You would think they would want to provide an accurate likeness," Morrigan mused. "That is, if their goal is to catch you. But… if it is to merely convince others of the charges this could work."

Alistair made a growling noise, ripping it down. "Hey!" someone shouted. I looked over, a guard standing near a large gate was looking at us. "You can't tear that down."

"So stop us," I said back. Really, if he saw the poster and saw us he'd figure things out soon enough, we probably wouldn't get out of this without a fight. No point in groveling now.

He sighed. "Maker, I don't have time for this," the man muttered. "You want the poster? Fine, take the poster. I'm just supposed to guard the alienage gates."

"Alienage…" I muttered. "Why do I know that word?"

"That is where the elves are forced to live," Zevran said coldly, looking at the guard.

"Oh…" I said. Alistair had told me, months ago. "Why are they locked in?"

"That is a _very good_ question," Morrigan said.

I saw Sten and Dane approaching and waved them over. "Warden," he said. "I found this. It is a poor likeness but removing them still seemed prudent." He handed me a stack of the posters. I smiled gratefully, thanking him for taking them down. Back together in one group, we approached the guard, Zevran and I in the lead.

"Why are the gates locked?" I asked. "Why are you trapping everyone inside?"

He sighed. "Maker, don't be so melodramatic. It's a temporary lockdown, not a performance of _Dane and the Werewolf_. The knife-ears decided to have themselves a bit of an uprising. New Arl ordered it closed until order was restored."

"You mean until you're done slaughtering people," Zevran said, glaring.

The man looked annoyed and gave him another glance. His eyes narrowed. "What are you doing outside the gates?" he asked. "And with _weapons_? You know the law, hand them over."

"No…. no, I don't think so," Zevran said, smiling as he moved a hand towards his blades.

"Don't make me take them by force," he warned. Wow, was everyone working for Loghain and Howe dumber than a rock by default? Was it a job qualification? Seemed like a bad idea.

"Try," I said, lightning surrounding my hands. "I _want_ you to try. I _dare_ you. Please. It's been _days_ since I've killed anything."

He stepped back, looking horrified. "No wonder your elf is running wild. You're a bloody lunatic."

"_My elf_? You think…? Maker's breath…" I looked at Zevran in shock. "Zev, is he saying—"

"Pay it no mind, belissima," he said, kissing my hand and giving the guard a smug glance across the top of my knuckles.

That was when I learned that not only were there horrible phrases people used for elves, there were terms just as ugly for human women who slept with elves. A few moments later Alistair was carrying me over his shoulder through the market district, with Sten carrying an equally enraged Zevran.

"Put me down," he shouted.

"Will you go back and kill that guard?" Sten asked.

"No," Zevran said. "I plan to torture him first."

"Stop squirming, elf," was all Sten said in reply.

I attempted to shoot a lightning bolt from over Alistair's shoulder. "Don't make me smite you," he said.

They dumped us both into a booth in a tavern. Glancing around I realized it was the same one I had waited in for Duncan. "Stay put," Alistair warned.

"He shouldn't have said that to you," I said, still upset.

Zevran sighed. "It's not the first time, nor will it be the last."

"Doesn't make it right."

"No, it doesn't," he agreed. "But that is the way of things. I do wish he had not said that to you, though."

I shrugged. "I _am_ having sex with an elf, so it isn't like he was lying. I was more mad he acted like it was something I should be ashamed of, though. That's absurd. It's not even like you're the first elf I've been with." I smirked. "He was probably jealous."

"Jealous?" Zevran said.

"Sure," I replied. "I mean, I'm pretty cute. Probably better looking than whatever he's got waiting for him at home."

Zevran laughed, poking me in the side. Which was my plan all along. He looked a bit more upset than he was letting on, I figured letting him make fun of me would cheer him up. "That you are. And somehow you always manage to bring the conversation back to it." He shook his head, grinning.

"You know, I wouldn't have attacked him if you hadn't moved first," I said.

"Me?" Zevran said. "You moved first, I was simply jumping to your aid."

"Now that's not true!"

He snorted. "Lies."

"Yes," I said. "_Your_ lies!"

"Oh, not me!" We were both giggling by now.

I noticed someone giving us a dirty look from across the room. Briefly I wondered if I was only now aware of that sort of thing because of our encounter with the guard. I made a face right back at them before kissing Zevran, figuring if I was going to be looked down on I'd like it to at least be for something good.

"Ah, I see we're back to normal," Alistair said, sitting down. He slid two pints across the table.

"How'd you afford this?" I asked, gesturing at the beer.

Zevran snickered next to me. "We sold a tiara."

"We had a tiara?"

"Only very briefly," Zevran said. "Before we sold it. I briefly debated giving it to you but it would have clashed with your staff."

"Nice," I said, sipping my drink. "So… go find Brother Genitivi?"

"Perhaps it is best if we keep out of public for a little while," Leliana said, sitting down. "At least until the guards have forgotten your faces."

"Maybe," I admitted.

"It's late, anyways," Alistair said. "We wait too long and we're not likely to _find_ rooms in Denerim."

I nodded. Camping just outside the city didn't seem like a good idea, not when we had so many enemies in the city. "Find him in the morning, then go meet those Warden supporters tomorrow afternoon?"

"You're not really going to do that are you?" Zevran said.

"Sure. Why wouldn't we?"

"Because it couldn't be any more obviously a trap if the sign simply said 'Trap for Grey Wardens. Free food!'"

"No," I said. "I don't think it's a trap. It'll be nice." He raised his eyebrows. "And if it is a trap we kill them," I added.

"Well, all right," he said. Zevran looked from Alistair to me and sighed. "I wouldn't recommend going into this with high expectations, though."

"It is nice to hope _someone_ doesn't believe those horrible things about us," Alistair said.

I nodded in agreement. "I don't like being hated. I've never done anything really bad in my life." Both men looked at me.

"You freed a blood mage," Alistair said.

"Twice!" Zevran added. "And then you bec—"

"Hey now!" I cut him off. "All right, point taken. But beyond that I'd like to think I'm a fairly nice person. And I still don't think those are necessarily _bad _things."

Wynne sat down, raising her eyebrow. Thankfully she hadn't heard Zevran, only my reply.

"What!" I said, digging into my food as soon as the waitress set it down. "I am."

She coughed. "I happened to overhear you, um, cutting ties with a young man once. You told him him to jump out a window. And then you shoved him towards it!"

Zevran snickered at that and I only shrugged. "He made fun of Jowan," I said.

"He _cried_," Wynne said.

"Well he shouldn't have made fun of Jowan then, should he?"

"I'll keep that in mind," Zevran said. "Although he seemed like a perfectly nice—" I pinched his leg and his jaw snapped closed.

Wynne eyed us. "When would Zevran have had opportunity to meet _Jowan_?"

"It's not important," I said quickly.

She sighed. "Do you know where he is now?"

"No," I said. "And if I did I wouldn't tell you." Wynne raised an eyebrow. "They were going to make him _tranquil_. I stand by what I did."

Wynne didn't look surprised, at least. "I respect that you stand by your actions," she said, speaking slowly and carefully, "but he _is_ a blood mage."

"I don't see why that automatically means he's a bad person," I said.

"It may not," she admitted. I looked at her in shock, that wasn't the response I expected. Wynne didn't elaborate on that point, though. "But it does mean he's _dangerous_. He never even passed the Harrowing. How do we know if he can resist a demon?"

"Uldred passed the Harrowing," I said.

"Pardon?"

"_Uldred passed the Harrowing_," I said. "He didn't resist the demon, though. So clearly it's no proof. You know what I think?"

"I'm sure you'll tell me," Wynne said.

I ignored that. "I think they just do it to kill some of us off. They get fewer mages and can claim it was the test, not that they're actually killing people."

She shook her head. "You're a very cynical young woman."

"I'm really not," I insisted. "And in any case, the templars shouldn't be making deals with demons. That's no better than one of us doing the same."

Wynne gave me a horrified look. "Margaret, some things aren't discussed outside the circle."

Zevran snorted. "It can't be any worse than how the _Chantry_ uses blood magic to track mages."

"All right then," Wynne said. "I can see this conversation is going nowhere quickly." She focused on her plate, making it clear there was nothing more to discuss.

I shrugged, finishing my food before long. "We got rooms?" It was already dusk outside.

Alistair slid a key across the table; Zevran caught it when I fumbled. We excused ourselves as everyone had begun drifting to their own rooms. Heading towards the hall that led to the rooms I noticed a set of eyes on us. This person clearly had a very different idea in mind than the man who had been giving us dirty looks earlier, though. I gave her a nasty glance and grabbed Zevran's arm. He looked momentarily confused but didn't comment.

"Why do you make that face?" Zevran asked as he locked the door.

"What face?"

"The face you make when you want something to die," he said.

"Was I?"

"You were," he said.

"I don't know," I said, feeling heat rise in my face. I didn't realize he'd noticed. But since he had Zevran would never let it go, not until I told him why.

He had stripped down to just leather leggings and sat across the bed, one knee pulled up. "Maggie…" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"It's nothing," I said, digging though my pack. Spotting white fabric I muttered "a-ha" and pulled it free, yanking the wrinkled nightshirt over my head once I'd stripped off my robes.

"You know, if you _folded_ your clothing you would find things with much less difficulty."

I shrugged, hopping up on the bed next to him and brushing out my hair. "Takes too long," I said.

"Suit yourself," he said. "Now why the face?"

I sighed, setting my hairbrush down. "That woman," I muttered.

"What woman?" Zevran looked at me blankly.

"The one with the red hair," I said. "Sitting near the hallway. The _pretty _one."

"Ah, her," he said, knowing immediately who I meant. "Yes?"

"She was staring at you," I said quietly. "I don't know… it annoyed me. It seemed rude, I was standing right next to you and we were clearly walking to a room together." I felt stupid even bringing it up.

"It was rather rude," Zevran said. "But she wasn't staring at _me_."

"She was staring right at you," I said. "Like you were dinner!"

He shook his head. "Not me, belissima. _You_."

"Why would she stare at me?"

"The same reason I do, I assume," he said. "Probably thinking of any number of obscene and perhaps Chantry-banned acts."

"Oh," I said, surprised. "Well, yes, it was still very rude."

Zevran made a noncommittal noise, running his hand up my leg. "I don't know; there is something to be said for leaving with a woman while everyone stares in envy." I snorted and climbed under the blankets, he followed after stripping off his leggings. "Plus, I'm sure imagining you with her will give me many pleasant dreams."

"Really?"

He laughed. "You really have no idea, do you?" Zevran smirked. "That Circle certainly did keep you sheltered…"

"It did not," I protested.

"Do not worry," he said, still snickering. "The occasional flashes of innocence are actually somewhat charming."

"Bastard," I said, elbowing him.

"Actually, of that I'm not entirely sure," he said. "It could very well be that my father was the woodcutter, which would make me perfectly legitimate. Of course, I'll never know." He paused, adding "although now that I think of it, it would be likely. Few elves in Antiva City have the money to patronize prostitutes after all, and were my father a human I'd hope to at least be a bit taller." I chuckled at that. If his father were human he'd be indistinguishable from any other human man. "Good thing, too. You need _someone_ legitimate to add an air of respectability to this group."

"Shame all we have is you, then," I laughed.

* * *

The next day we set out to find Brother Genitivi. Instead we found a young man in his home claiming to be his assistant. I made a face as soon as we walked in, a rancid smell filling my lungs. "What _is _that stench?" Alistair whispered.

"Death," Zevran said quietly.

The assistant claimed Brother Genitivi had disappeared weeks ago. He was full of excuses so pathetic even I had trouble believing him. "Some knights from Redcliffe came looking for him not long ago," he said, voice shaky. "I sent them after him, but they too disappeared."

"How do you know they disappeared?"

"Uh…" he stared at me. "Well, they haven't returned or sent word."

"And you were such close friends they'd keep in touch?"

"Er… I… don't know," he stuttered. "After what happened to Genitivi…" he continued talking but I walked away, pushing my way past him.

"What is that _stench_," I muttered again, moving towards a back room where it was worst, Dane at my heels.

"Hey, keep out of there!" he shouted at me. I ignored him, it was fairly obvious something was really wrong here. More than obvious since, not a moment later, he attacked me.

"Well now," Alistair said as we looked at his body on the floor. "Awfully violent for the assistant of a Chantry scholar, wouldn't you say?" I finally made my way to the back room, hearing him call "what should we do with the body?"

"Alistair?" I shouted. He was at my side a moment later. "We could put his body with _this_ one, I suppose," I said.

"Well, I guess that would explain the smell."

I nodded, looking at the corpse lying in the back room. Our group quickly began searching the small house for any hint of what had happened. The body was Genitivi's _real_ assistant, apparently. The man we had met was his killer. Why someone would want to kill the assistant of a scholar made no sense, though.

"He really didn't want us finding the urn," I said. "It seemed clear he didn't want us going after Genitivi."

"Maybe Brother Genitivi was onto something?" Alistair said. "Haven, it says. I've never even heard of such a town."

"I'll add it to our maps," Leliana offered, marking the town and roads.

We left slowly, figuring one or two at a time would attract less attention than our large group. I didn't want anyone to connect us to either of the corpses. Judging by the smell inside the house they wouldn't go undiscovered forever.

"Well?" Alistair asked as I finally joined the others.

"Seemed fine," I said. "No one gave me a second glance beyond the templar outside the Chantry." I smirked a bit. "He must have seen our wanted poster, since they just nodded and said 'Warden' when I walked past."

"Huh," Alistair said. "I guess fewer people fell for Loghain's lies than I thought."

"Maybe," I said.

"Well, I had a nice chat with the captain of the guard. He recognized me and asked me not to make trouble."

"Oops," I said. "Although really, he started it."

"True," Alistair agreed. "But apparently they're absurdly understaffed. He asked for help."

I raised an eyebrow. "Did he now?"

"For pay."

"Ah, well, you know I love to do my civic duty." He rolled his eyes at that, laughing.

So that's how we came to spend the better part of the day chasing drunk mercenaries out of taverns, criminals through back alleys, and ultimately ending up at what Zevran told me was the finest brothel in Denerim. I shouldn't have been surprised when Wynne and Sten insisted on sitting this adventure out.

"This reminds me of where I grew up. They say you can never go home again," he said as we walked through the front doors. "But for a few silvers you can get pretty close."

As much as Zevran assured us it was a fairly 'classy' establishment- and how he knew so much about the whorehouses of the Ferelden capital I didn't even _want_ to begin to contemplate- I was unimpressed. I would generally assume classy establishments would be lacking in open knife fights. That didn't seem to be the case here.

We tried to kick out a group of mercenaries who were annoying the owner first. When they wouldn't leave it turned into a fight; no one batted an eye. I glanced around as blood pooled at my feet. The woman who ran the brothel only gave us a grateful nod. Maybe it was because we hadn't killed anyone?

That done, we went off to meet the Grey Warden supporters. I was bouncing on the balls of my feet after knocking, excited to meet whoever was on the other side. "Password?" said a voice.

Really, the fact that they asked for a password which they put on _flyers_ hung in the main square of the Market District should have been my first clue. "The griffons shall ride again!" I said. I ignored Zevran groaning behind us.

The door swung open. "Another Grey Warden supporter," the man said, sneering. My smile fell. Zevran had been right.

"Not just a supporter," the amused looking elven woman at his side said. "That's a Grey Warden. She's the same one Arl Howe is looking for."

Why was it _always_ me?

Not that I bothered asking before casting any spells. Really, if we fell for it who knows how many of our actual supporters did, too.

It was a harder fight than I'd expected, thanks to a qunari mercenary who stepped out from his place just beyond my line of sight. Of course that would have to happen when our own qunari warrior was happily sitting in his room meditating.

"Just give yourselves up," the man said as we fought. "We're Arl Howe's elite!"

Alistair and I both laughed, just before he beheaded the woman who had recognized me. "So… _almost_ good enough to be a Grey Warden?" I said as I froze the qunari solid, shattering him with a solid kick. The man gave me a horrified look; watching his companion reduced to a pile of frozen shards was the last thing he saw before Zevran took him down with a knife in the back.

Even though we won I wasn't feeling particularly victorious.

After removing his blade from Howe's man and resheathing it Zevran crossed his arms, staring at me. "Well?" he said.

"I'm… going to go try and smooth things over with the manager," Alistair said, backing from the room. Oghren was right on his heels.

"I…" I sank to the floor, narrowly missing landing in the pile of dead qunari. "I'm sorry," I finally said. "You were right."

Zevran lowered himself to the floor next to me, sitting back on his heels. "I'm not looking for you to tell me I was right," he said.

"I don't know. I just… I really, really wanted it to be people who liked us. I'd always read about the legends of the Grey Wardens and now that I am one," I shrugged. "Everyone thinks we're horrible monsters."

"I do not think there are many who believe those stories," he said. "But… that is not the point." I waited for him to go on.

Morrigan sighed from behind him. "He's _trying_ to tell you that you are far too trusting," she said.

"Quite right," Zevran agreed.

"A fairly ironic turn of events," Morrigan added, "given that he was once the recipient of said trust."

"I must admit, were it anyone _but_ me I would say that was a rather foolish decision," Zevran said. "Fortunately for her I am a man of my word."

"You two sound like Alistair," I said. Morrigan narrowed her eyes. "Granted, he's usually talking about, well, you two." Zevran laughed at that while Morrigan narrowed her eyes. "Oh, I'm teasing, calm down," I said. "He hasn't talked like that in ages." Morrigan didn't seem any more pleased. "I don't know, I just wanted it to be true."

"I know," Zevran said. "Well, we've driven out annoying mercenaries and taken care of this rabble. I suspect that has earned us a few drinks on the house." He pulled me to my feet.

"That's a thought," I said.

"Maybe we can even get a girl!" he said, raising his eyebrows. Morrigan made a noise of disgust and left.

"What in the world would you do with two women?" I asked.

Zevran only laughed. "There's that naivety again," he said, poking me in the side. "It does shows up at the strangest times."

* * *

_Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	39. A stupid way to get to know someone

I was sulking as we returned to the large front room. I knew it, and I didn't care if everyone else did as well. "Why so grumpy?" Zevran asked.

"Nothing," I replied.

"Well that was _very_ believable," he said.

"Fine," I snapped. "You keep making fun of me. I'm not a child!"

"I don't recall saying you were," he replied with maddening calm. "Considering we share a bed it would be rather disturbing if I thought so, would it not?"

"You keep saying I'm immature," I countered.

"No," he said. "I said you were _innocent_. There is a vast difference." He stopped in the hall, turning to face me, and taking my hands so I was facing him. "I didn't intend to upset you," he said. "I find it rather charming, but if this bothers you I will say nothing more."

It was difficult to stay annoyed with Zevran staring at me, holding my hands in his with a serious expression on his face. "You really didn't mean anything bad?"

"No," he insisted.

"You weren't making fun of me?"

"If I want to intentionally annoy someone I'll go bother Wynne about her bosom again," Zevran said. "I've learned that if you wish to see someone naked mockery is rarely the way to accomplish such a thing." He paused, smirking. "Or, if you wish to continue seeing them nakedon a regular basis, as the case may be."

I relaxed, realizing how much sense that made. "Sorry," I said.

"No need to apologize," he said, leading me back to where the others were waiting for us.

"There you are!" Alistair said, all but bouncing across the room. "Come with me!" He grabbed my arm and yanked me back down the hall. Zevran followed behind us, along with Oghren, Morrigan, and Leliana.

"What's going on?" I demanded.

"Well, I told the… um, madam," he blushed at the word, "that we got rid of that trap. She was thrilled."

"Good," I said. "Was it the kind of thrilled that involves giving us money? I like that kind of thrilled."

"I don't _know_," he said, sounding exasperated. "Stop talking. It's listening time." I rolled my eyes but shut up. "Apparently they took over two rooms on orders of the Arl and refused to pay."

"How obnoxious," I said. "Wait… two rooms?"

"Yep!" he all but cheered. "One for them… and _one _for the people they caught."

I stumbled and Alistair stopped, letting me catch my footing. "You mean…?"

"There's a room full of _real_ Grey Warden supporters locked up back here!"

Shrieking for joy, I tore off down the hall, Alistair at my heels. Passing the room where we had killed Howe's people, we went to the next door. "Locked," I called.

Zevran put his hand on my arm, moving me aside. "Perhaps I could have a try at that?" he said as I yanked fruitlessly at the doorknob. People were making noise on the other side.

"We're getting you out," I called, hoping that would keep them from just dropping something heavy on the head of the first person through the door. That's what I would have done, after all.

Zevran grinned, stepping aside. "All complete!" he announced cheerfully.

I opened the door, peeking in. Perhaps twenty people were in the room, watching us just as warily. Realizing there was no one even close to the door I opened it the rest of the way. "Hello," I said, feeling suddenly silly. "Um… we got rid of Howe's men."

"Got rid of?" one man asked.

"Well… killed," I said. "But they did try to kill us first."

An older man looked horrified. "They just shoved us in here. Didn't raise their weapons, though."

Alistair shifted on his feet next to me; I caught a glimpse of his cheeks twitching, he was fighting the urge to break out into a wide grin. "Yes… but _you're_ not Grey Wardens," he said.

That was apparently all it took. The entire room seemed to rush towards us at once, grabbing our arms, slapping us on the back, and beaming as they poured out. "Knew the Wardens would get word of Howe's shenanigans and save us," a middle aged woman said. Zevran caught my eye, mouthing the word _'shenanigans'_ with a grin. I barely managed to repress a snicker.

"Let me buy you a drink, Wardens," another person said, herding us towards the main room.

"No, I'm buying them a drink," another man argued.

"You can both buy them a drink," an older woman said, grabbing me by the arm. "Now when was the last time you had a proper meal?" she demanded.

"I… uh… yesterday?" I guessed.

She shook her head. "And you don't even have armor! What is this, some kind of dress?" She tugged at the fur on my shoulders. I met Zevran's eyes, I'm sure he could tell how trapped I was suddenly feeling.

"That _is_ her armor," he said. "It is… imported."

"Not like any armor I've ever seen," she said, "and I got two boys in the Ash Warriors."

"They're robes," I said quietly, not seeing any way out of the discussion, as boxed in as we all were.

"What?"

"Robes," I repeated.

"Robes?" she said, sounding confused. "Who wears robes to fight besides ma… oh." She dropped my arm like I was on fire and tried stepping back.

"Nothing quite like gratitude, is there?" Zevran said, shoving himself between us and hooking an arm around my waist.

Her opinion, fortunately, seemed to be the minority. I suppose mages aren't so bad when they save you from a trap. Everyone else seemed to be willing to treat us to food and drinks. More than willing, if the number of pint glasses that were shoved in my hands as the afternoon stretched into evening was any indication.

As everyone drank more they began to ask Alistair and I for impressive tales of our Grey Warden heroics. Unfortunately we didn't have very many, or very many that wouldn't send a normal person running from the room in terror. It wasn't as though we could talk about our victory over the broodmother in the Deep Roads, after all. Or tell them what a broodmother was, for that matter. It was something _I'd_ sooner forget, and I _was_ a Grey Warden.

"We… haven't been Grey Wardens very long," I said, shrugging in apology.

"You fight in that battle down south?" someone asked.

"Yes," Alistair said. He looked embarrassed. I probably did, too. It wasn't terribly awe-inspiring to admit we survived because Duncan kept us both from the real fight. After some goading Alistair started telling them about our sweep through the tower.

"And she's running at the ogre howling like a banshee," he was saying, "already casting spells to freeze it… and didn't even stop. Just kept on going, shooting fire at the beacon from halfway across the room." He looked at me and smirked. "Unfortunately that was when the ogre defrosted and kicked her straight at the fire. You wouldn't believe the curses she knows. I was impressed!"

He then told something I'm pretty sure was made up about me kicking off from the edge of the fireplace to toss myself back at the ogre. It made me sound rather impressive, though, and earned me a shot of whiskey. So, I told them how he jumped straight in the air to stab it in the neck while it was still running around. That earned him _two_ shots, and by then Alistair was rosy cheeked and keeling over.

We left out the part where we were both shot full of arrows and rescued by Morrigan's mother. Probably for the best, _that_ wouldn't have been an easy thing to explain. '_Oh hey, ever heard of Flemeth?'_ Something told me our free lunch would soon come to an end if the discussion shifted to ancient abominations. As if I hadn't already thought it, she leaned over to me whispering "it would be wise to _end_ your story there."

"I figured as much," I whispered back.

Keeping to the edge of the group, she sighed. "How _long_ will this go on?"

"Until they stop buying," I replied, tipping back my drink. "Why? You need another? The tall guy in the back is keeping me pretty liquored up, I'm sure he'd buy you one."

She made a noise of annoyance. "He wants to sleep with you. I hope you realize that is the reason he keeps handing you liquor."

I snorted. "Morrigan, if there's anything I'm good at it's knowing when someone wants to sleep with me. Unfortunately for him that won't be happening."

"Not willing to upset your pet assassin?" she rolled her eyes.

"Maker's breath, it's not like that with us, how many times do I have to explain it?"

"You are unable to convince yourself, and you truly expect to convince me?" She chuckled. "At least he is handsome enough. I assume he has skills, if your disgustingly cheerful mood each morning is any indication."

"You have _no_ idea," I replied. "The things that man can do with his tongue… wow. Which is why Mr. 'captured by Howe's idiots' isn't getting anything more than a smile from me. Something tells me he wouldn't measure up."

"Speaking _figuratively_, of course," she said. "I have heard the stories of elves…"

"Not true," I said. She raised an eyebrow. "No, really. Not true. Basically the same size as humans." I dropped my voice. "I once knew an elf… well, let's say he was lucky he wore robes and not those… what are they called?"

"Pants?" she supplied.

"Right," I said, laughing. "Shame he didn't have the faintest idea what to do with it."

She smirked. "That is always a disappointment."

"Isn't it? I tried to give him another chance, but nope. Horrid."

"You are too forgiving, I keep telling you this." I looked at her and burst into laughter. A moment later she joined me.

Morrigan eventually left, wanting to spend no more time listing to Alistair and I entertain "slack-jawed imbeciles and whores." I followed her to the door, hoping to convince her to let Leliana walk her back in case a templar passed by, but she only shrugged. "No templar would take a second glance at a cat." With that the air shimmered and, where Morrigan once stood, a sleek black cat now preened. I scratched her head and laughed as one paw swiped at me in response. Opening the brothel door I waved as she darted out into the night.

"She doesn't like me," Leliana said before yawning. "It is fine. I admit… I do not much care for her, either."

"She's not bad," I said. "Give her a chance."

"She is a witch, and believe me, that has _nothing_ to do with her magic." I didn't respond and Leliana only chuckled. "Ignore me, I don't want to set us against one another," she said. "Have fun, do not let the locals get you too drunk. No one wants to see a figure from legend vomiting on her shoes!"

"I won't," I promised.

Walking back, I swayed, fighting the urge to bump into the wall. "Had a bit too much?" Zevran asked, walking over and steadying me by one shoulder.

"No." He tried to stare me down and I giggled. Zevran's eyebrows were drawn down, hand on his hip.

"What?"

"Nothing," I said, still giggling. "You're cute when you make your scary face."

"Cute?"

I nodded and he made a face. "Well… fantastic. That is exactly what I want. _Cute_." Zevran rolled his eyes. "You _do_ recall what I do for a living, yes?"

"Last I checked you kill darkspawn with me."

He sighed. "To be more specific, you do remember how we _met_?"

"Sure," I said, giggling. "I hit you in the head with a boulder, you tried to look up my dress and called me a deadly sex goddess. I rather liked that. It did a lot for getting me past that 'threatening to kill me' bit."

"I could tell," he said, finally laughing. "You all but preened." He led me back towards the main room. "It was at that point I decided I simply _had_ to find a way to see if I was right."

I stared at him, waiting for the rest of that. Zevran looked at me blankly. "Well?" I finally demanded.

He sighed, glancing at the candle on the wall. "Is it that late already? I had no idea it was time to feed your ego." Laughing at my expression, he pulled me ahead, smacking me on the backside when I didn't move fast enough. "It's time to say goodnight to your fans," he said.

"You're not having fun?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Oh, listening to your stories is all well and good. I'd much prefer listing to you screaming out my name, though. And that is what I could be hearing right now, if only I could get you into our room at the inn and out of those robes."

"Oh…" I said, suddenly unable to think of anything _but_ that.

"You like the idea, I take it?" he smirked. I could only mumble a response, teeth against his neck. Zevran took a breath, stumbling when I pulled him towards a wall, leaning against the plaster. I hooked a leg around him. "Maggie," he said. "We should _leave_."

"Right," I reluctantly broke my mouth away from his ear.

"_Now_."

I untangled myself, nodding. "Let's say goodnight," I said.

"Good plan," he said.

We walked back into the main room, me giggling the entire way. Before I could tell Alistair we were leaving, or Oghren since Alistair was already face down on a table, snoring softly, I heard a crash behind us.

Spinning around, I grabbed my staff without thinking. "Hey!" I screamed, seeing three men holding swords, facing a single woman. Before I could react she ducked, sweeping the feet out from under one while stabbing another. The third, seeing both of his friends on the ground, bolted towards the door. I nearly fell over as he barreled past me, down the hall and into the night. "Huh," was all I could say.

The woman who had been the target of their attack kicked one of the other men; he stumbled to his feet, dragging the other behind them as she shouted.

"Well look at this," she said suddenly, staring in our direction. "Zevran, I see you've managed to track me down in this dog-scented nation. Come to apologize, have you?"

I glanced from her to Zevran, surprised. "I am as shocked as you, Isabela," he said.

"Mmmm… are you?" She stared at him and I resisted the urge to freeze her where she stood, although why I was compelled to do that I had no idea. She was taller than me. "And here I hoped you would finally apologize for leaving me bereft of my lord husband before vanishing without a trace while I slept."

While she slept?

Oh…

I took a closer look at her. She was older than me. Not _old_. Just… older. I had the distinct impression he had never called her immature, or innocent, or whatever it was he had been laughing about for days.

"You know it was just business," Zevran said, smiling. He was _smiling_ at her. And it was the same smile he used on _me_. I glanced at her again and realized her chest was bigger than mine. "Besides," Zevran went on with a wave of his wrist, "it seems to have worked out quite well for you. The ship is now yours, is it not?"

She laughed and I pushed down the sudden desire to rip out a chunk of her hair. Her hair that was smooth and shiny and completely not hanging in her face like mine was at that moment. Even her _laugh_ was better than mine. "I never did like the greasy bastard," she admitted, winking at Zevran. I counted backwards from ten, pulling ice back into my hands. "And the Siren treats me far better than she ever did him."

I interrupted their laughter with a cough. "You… know each other?" I said, hoping I was at least sober enough not to slur my words like Oghren.

She turned to look at me. As she smiled I felt heat rise in my face. Something about it seemed strangely familiar.

"Oh, of course," Zevran said, as if he had just remembered me standing next to him. "This is Isabela, queen of the Eastern sees and the sharpest blade in Llomerryn." I tried to look unimpressed when all I wanted to do was gasp out 'a real pirate?' He went on, adding almost as an afterthought "and Isabela my dear, you'll no doubt be amused to discover I'm traveling with a Grey Warden."

There were _so many_ things wrong with that statement.

Amused?

_Traveling?_

**_My dear?_**

I turned to glare at him. Zevran didn't notice.

"Ah, a Grey Warden," she said, sounding impressed. "I suspected, but I had heard all the Ferelden Wardens were either killed or exiled."

Trying to hide my surprise that she would have suspected anything about me, I shrugged, hoping to sound dangerous. "They've tried."

"Don't look so surprised," she said. I suppose I didn't hide it very well. Or sound very dangerous. "I've seen many of your kind in my journeys… there's always something _odd _about you." She smiled at me again, I blushed again. "But, Grey Warden or no, it is refreshing to see another woman who answers to no one."

"Um… thank you?" I said, not sure how to reply. Who would I answer to? They were all dead, after all. But, she was trying to be nice. I suppose that meant I had to make some sort of effort. "You're an impressive fighter."

"You saw that little drama? None of those brutes has ever been a match for me: they're all so clumsy and predictable." She stood up straighter. "I do not rely on brute force or strength; instead I use quickness and wit to avoid their blows while finding their weaknesses to sink my own. I call myself a duelist."

I tried to force my mind to cooperate. _Quickness and wit_. Well, I had those things! Sometimes. When sober, at least. And I certainly didn't have much by way of strength. If I could avoid darkspawn by being faster than them… I stopped paying attention to them, pondering the idea. I'd have time to get a spell out before getting hurt. I'd stop getting hurt every single day. "Can you teach me?" I asked her.

Zevran made a snorting sound. "Really, Maggie?" he said. "You wish to learn to _duel_?"

"I don't see what's so strange about it," I said. "If I was faster I might not get stabbed so often. I'm really tired of getting stabbed." Trying not to sway on my feet, I pushed my hair back. "When I dreamed about leaving the tower I didn't expect it would involve swords being jabbed into me almost every day."

"I would be rather disturbed if you did," he said.

"Still better being outside, though," I added.

She smiled, chuckling at our exchange. "I am flattered that you wish to learn from me, sweet thing. You seem to lack a particular... grace that is required, though." She'd seen me walk halfway across one room, while _drunk_, and had already determined that? Probably realizing I was annoyed Isabela went on. "You are accustomed to doing battle a certain way, yes?" Oh, so I wasn't an oaf, I was just stubbornly set in my ways, apparently. Well, that was… slightly less insulting. Looking me over she seemed to be considering something. After a moment Isabela nodded, agreeing to teach me some 'basics.'

Well, that was all I _wanted_ to know. Like I cared about how to use a dagger. Who needed daggers when they had ice and lightning?

"Sounds good," I said, feeling less annoyed with her now that I thought she could save me from my constant injuries. Insisting she wanted to 'get to know me better,' Isabela ordered us drinks and gestured to a chair. I wasn't entirely sure what she was talking about. Every time I had used that phrase it ended up hidden away in some dark corner of the library with my robes pushed up around my waist.

"Cards?" I asked dubiously.

"Have you ever played Wicked Grace?" she asked.

'No," I said. "I can play Diamondback. And mage games. You probably wouldn't know any of them."

"Wicked Grace is easy to learn, but difficult to master."

She wasn't kidding about that. She was also keeping a continual stream of ale poured into my glass on her tab as we played, no doubt contributing to my loss of hand after hand.

I glanced helplessly at Zevran after she told me my most recent hand of incomprehensible cards was insufficient. How did a picture of a woman holding a snake beat a picture of a man holding a sword over a bowl of water? Who determined that? And _why?_ He shrugged and mouthed 'she cheats' very clearly. I tried not to glare at her.

"This is a stupid way to get to know someone," I said finally dropping my cards. If I could barely follow the rules, I didn't stand much of a chance against a skilled _cheating _player. I could have sworn I saw a flash of white peeking out of her sleeve before slipping back just as quickly.

She gave me a look of false sympathy. "You do not seem to be adept at cards. I don't think I've ever seen such a series of unusual hands."

"If it was a game I _knew_ I'd do better," I said. "We should play Tintreasch."

Zevran cut in, a look of horror on his face, before Isabela could respond. "Other than her strange fondness for the card game of dwarven concubines, Maggie only knows games that require all players to be mages. I do _not_ recommend you play her lightning-game. I tried once. Never again." I narrowed my eyes at him. "You hit me with _lightning!_" Zevran said. "Without warning!"

"You went over twenty one! That's the rule!"

"Oh?" he said. "And what would have happened if _you_ lost the hand? I can't shoot lightning at you, now can I?"

I spun, swaying in my chair and gesturing with one hand. "All right, first… I never go over twenty one since I'm _really_ good at that game. And… I don't know, you could pull my hair or something. You're smart, you'd figure something out."

"Now that hardly seems fair. I get hit with lightning and you get to have your hair pulled? You _like_ when I pull your hair!" Zevran wore a dirty grin and I couldn't help but laugh.

"I don't recall you complaining the last time I hit you with lightning," I countered, letting a few sparks fall from my fingertips.

"Mmmm… you may have a point," he said.

"Ah yes, I do remember what fun apostates could be." Isabela gave me a look that, well, seemed not unlike the look I had just given Zevran. No wonder it seemed so familiar. I suddenly wasn't so annoyed realizing she had been flirting with me just as much as him.

"I don't know if Maggie _is_ an apostate," Zevran said. "You were made a Warden straight from the Circle before Ostagar, were you not? Since the Wardens have an agreement with the Chantry allowing them one mage… you may be perfectly legal." He paused, "other than, of course, the charges pending against you."

"Aw," I couldn't resist saying. "How depressing. The stabbings weren't so bad when I thought I was breaking the rules at the same time."

"That fresh from the tower, are we?" she seemed amused and said something to Zevran I didn't catch. He laughed. "Well… if not over cards, how did you get to know someone in the Circle?"

_Screw_, I thought to myself, while trying to come up with a less shocking answer.

"_Really_?" she said, eyebrows raised.

I coughed. I didn't realize I was at the 'saying what I'm thinking' stage of drunk. "Um… I didn't mean for that to be out loud."

Zevran was sitting forward, smiling. "Ah, but it _is_ true," he said, chuckling.

"Not for everyone."

"For you?" Isabela asked.

"Well… mostly," I said. Pointless to deny it now. Isabela didn't seem particularly shocked or offended, anyways. The opposite, if I had to guess. Quickly gulping down the rest of my ale, I grinned at her. _Only live once,_ I told myself. _And, probably not for much longer_. "Why, want to go somewhere more private?"

Zevran started coughing, I glanced over to see him setting his glass down and wiping his mouth, shock clear on his face. "Really?" he said.

"Sure, why not?" I replied. If it was even half as fun as he'd made it sound, well, that would be just fine. And if not, at least I wouldn't be curious forever.

Isabela looked from him to me, clearly amused. "Ooh, and now you've piqued my interest. It would surely be rude of me to decline such a... delicious offer. And what about you, Zev? Shall we, for old times' sake?"

"I think that's a fantastic idea," I said before Zevran could reply. His eyes went wide, a grin forming.

"Ah, this brings back memories..." Isabela said, standing up.

"Should we inform Alistair that we are, ah, leaving?" Zevran asked.

"Probably," I agreed, walking over to where he was sitting with Oghren. I shook his shoulder until he got up. "Hey! Hey!"

"Murrhauh?" he said, looking at me in confusion.

"I'm leaving," I said. "Me and Zev are going to, um, look at Isabela's boat."

"You're going to look at a boat?" he said, now more awake. "In the middle of the night?"

"Yep," I replied.

"In the dark?"

"The _inside_ of the boat, Alistair," I said.

"Oh, all right," he said. We started to leave and Alistair spoke up again. "_Why?_"

"Um…" I laughed as Zevran wrapped an arm around my waist.

Isabela gave a throaty laugh, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Should we invite him?"

"Um, no," I said quickly. "No… that wouldn't be a good idea."

"What?" Alistair looked offended. "Why can't I come? I like boats."

"You… wouldn't enjoy what we plan to do once we're there," I said.

Zevran laughed. "He certainly would, if he'd be willing to try it."

Oghren looked at the three of us, eyes bloodshot. "Am I drunk, or are you three going off to—"

"I think both are true, Oghren," I said quickly. He glanced at us again, spending most of his time staring at Isabela, her hand now resting on my hip. I couldn't help myself from laughing as he muttered something about his ancestors and keeled over drunk. "Anyways, night Alistair," I said.

He just looked at us in shock, shaking his head. Apparently, he had figured out what we planned to do.

"Just _how_ drunk are you, my dear?" Zevran whispered as Isabela led us through the quiet Denerim streets.

"Drunk enough," I replied. The cool air had done a lot to sober me, to be completely honest. The spell I had cast did even more, since I had no desire to throw up all over the both of them. I looked over at him, his cheeks were far ruddier than usual. "Probably not much drunker than you."

"I am not so drunk I would wake up and wonder what I had done the previous evening," he said pointedly.

"Neither am I," I replied. Casting a glance at him I smirked. "After how you bragged about what you could do with two women, I expect to be very impressed."

"I love a challenge!" he said.

The boat looked like, well, a boat. Nothing about it seemed particularly pirate-like to me. Climbing up a walkway from the dock, we passed a few members of her largely-indifferent crew. I vaguely wondered how exciting her life was that leading a drunk, heavily-armed elf and an even drunker mage into her personal quarters didn't even rate a second glance. Before I could contemplate that the door clicked shut and Zevran's teeth were scraping the back of my neck, his fingers already working on the laces to my robes. Isabela watched us for a moment, taking in the sight of his hand moving around me, cupping one breast. I leaned my head back, sighing as Zevran pinched. Looking up, I smiled at her.

_Soft_, was all I could think as she kissed me. Her lips were so soft against mine, I almost gasped in surprise. Not just that, even her skin felt soft, her body against mine. It was completely different from anyone I'd kissed before, and I vaguely wondered if that was how I felt to the men I'd kissed.

Zevran pushed my robes down my shoulders, pulling my hand free from where it had wound through Isabela's hair to get them off me. I laughed. "This seems unfair." They were both fully clothed. Without waiting, I started to work on the buckles of Isabela's armor. Their placement was slightly off from where it would be on men's armor, but the basic concept was close enough.

"Oh?" Zevran spoke up. "Am I left on my own, then?"

"I think you can manage to undress yourself," Isabela said before returning her attention to me. We stumbled together towards the bed, still kissing. Breaking apart, I climbed onto the bed, surprised at how much I was enjoying myself. She followed a moment later. I pulled her towards me, running my hands across her skin. Isabela gave me a wicked grin before leaning down, causing me to sigh as her mouth latched onto my breast.

Zevran, now naked, sat on the bed. I gestured him closer between my moans as she tormented me with teeth and lips. He shook his head. "For now, I think, I would enjoy watching." I would have objected, but Isabela's fingers slipped between my legs at the same instant. Whatever lingering awkwardness I might have felt dissipated as she slid further down the bed, settling between my legs. Gasping, I writhed under her, hooking one leg across Isabela's shoulders and tangling my hands in her hair. Zevran moved closer, gently gripping both of my wrists and pulling my arms back. Isabela paused and glanced at him, to my frustration. He simply said "trust me," before guiding my hands to the headboard. I realized what he was thinking and started to giggle, cut off as Isabela returned to what she had been doing.

As her fingers pumped in and out of me in time with the flicks of her tongue I was barely aware of anything else going on. Feeling another mouth on me, warm and wet against a nipple, I tensed, muscles clenching as I screamed.

They were both shifting around on the bed, I could feel the mattress move. Eyes closed, I fought to catch my breath. "Why is it so cold in here?" Isabela asked.

"Ah, be glad it wasn't your hair she froze," Zevran replied.

Making a face at him, I laughed before turning to Isabela, who was examining the ice on her headboard with curiosity. "Your turn," I said, pushing her back to the bed. Trying to think of things I liked, since my only experience with women was myself, I ran a sparking hand down her side as I moved. I tried to follow the noises she made, forcing myself not to stop and grin proudly when she gasped and grabbed my hair.

Zevran was moving behind me, I could feel his slim fingers gripping me by the hips. Realizing I'd soon have no hope of paying attention to what I was doing, I slipped my fingers out of her, moving them quickly. Pausing long enough to whisper a spell, she made a small sound of frustration. Sensing the spell working, I slipped two still-wet fingers back into her and returned to flicking my tongue. All but shaking with anticipation as Zevran pushed my knees further apart, I could hear him mutter something in encouragement to me over Isabela's cries.

She shifted out from under me after a moment, gasping. "What was…"

"…magic," I managed to pant out between groans as Zevran thrust into me.

Once she had recovered Zevran pulled out, rolling to his back. I straddled him, moaning as I slid down. A moment later he beckoned to Isabela, who lowered herself over his mouth. The three of us moved together, panting and moaning. I could hear Zevran's roar even muffled by her thighs. My own sounds were lost in Isabela's mouth.

"Magic, now!" he said, grinning at me as she moved over. I cast the spell and he grabbed my leg, hooking it over a shoulder. Once he had left me shuddering and incoherent, Zevran moved over to Isabela. I found myself turning away from the sight of him stretched out on the pirate. It bothered me more than I wanted to admit.

Apparently noticing I had gone quiet, he pulled me towards them. Kissing me as his hands roughly guided me to straddle Isabela, I ended up with my back to him. I could still hear her gasps of pleasure, but it was much harder to be upset by it when his hands were moving across my body, one dragging nails across my skin while the other spread the wet folds between my legs giving easy access to Isabela's tongue.

As I began to make more noise I could feel him moving faster, thrusting into her hard enough to shake the bed. When I started to shake and try to pull away, his hands kept me steady so I could only howl as Isabela continued licking. Finally he released his grip on me when she began bucking as hard as I was. Pushing me over, Zevran quickly moved from her to me once again, spreading my still-shaking thighs. "Zev," I moaned as he slowly eased himself into me.

"Once more," he demanded, using his hands on me as he thrust. "I want to hear you again."

Knowing what he wanted, I didn't hold back. As shudders began to rip through me I screamed his name, the Maker's, and demands for him not to stop. Finally I could only yell incoherently as waves of pleasure hit me one after another, not stopping until his grip on my hips tightened to the point of pain and he shouted my name before collapsing onto me.

Exhausted, the three of us could barely find the energy to pull the blankets up before falling asleep.

* * *

_So I wrote this chapter. And then my computer ATE IT. And then I started hoping to finish AOA before DA2 came out. Clearly, not happening. I'm still not thrilled with it, but I'd rather just move on. I swear, I should not have so much trouble writing a chapter that's mostly jokes and smut!  
Thanks as always to all my readers and reviewers!_


	40. I have no idea why I was shocked

"You have been unusually quiet," Zevran said as we walked back to the inn. "Is this perhaps morning-after regret?"

"What?" I glanced over at him. "No, no… I'm just…"

I trailed off and he sighed. "I worried we would end up having this conversation," Zevran said quietly. "I suppose I should ask you what you would like to do now?"

"What do you mean?" I stopped in the street, looking at him. "I don't want to _do_ anything. Well, I want breakfast… but…" He stared at me and I sighed. Zevran was too good at reading my face, I should have known I wouldn't get anything past him. "I don't want to talk about it, all right?" I said finally. And, well, that was the truth. Although fun at the time, I'd had a nagging feeling in the back of my mind since we woke up.

While I dressed I tried to determine what was bothering me. It wasn't until I saw Zevran saying goodbye to Isabela that it hit me. In a confusing turn of events, knowing why I was uneasy only made me _more_ uneasy. Pretending nothing had happened seemed simpler.

Zevran didn't seem to feel the same way, unfortunately. "You are upset with me," he said, not sounding as though it was a question.

"No," I said quickly. "Not at all."

"Then, what?"

Sighing, I looked away. I knew exactly what was bothering me, but I didn't know how he would react to hearing me explain why. It seemed far too close to staking some sort of claim on him, which was always something we both agreed we would never do. "It was just…" I waved my hands, trying to finish the statement without sounding _possessive_, of all things. "Too many limbs," I finally said.

"Too many limbs?"

"Yeah," I nodded.

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well, now you know for the future that you prefer focusing your efforts on one person." Zevran smiled and hooked an arm around my waist, guiding me back to the inn. "I should have known you were too greedy to share my attentions." He chuckled to himself and I tried to hide my relief. It wasn't his _attentions_ I hated sharing. It was _him_: I felt a pit in my stomach thinking about Zevran with Isabela.

It seemed like keeping that part to myself might be a smart idea, though.

The others were sitting in the main room eating breakfast when we returned. "You two were up and about early," Wynne remarked.

"I told her you went for a morning walk," Alistair whispered quickly as I sat next to him, Zevran at my other side.

I shrugged. "I wanted to see the city. I've only been here once, and didn't really see anything but this inn the last time, too."

Zevran, catching on, nodded. "We took in the sunrise over the waterfront. Quite striking." Not entirely untrue, as we had watched the sunrise as we left the waterfront.

Wynne smiled at that, in a way that made me think of the word _grandmotherly_. It wasn't a look I was accustomed to getting from her, she usually saved those for Leliana and Alistair. "Well, isn't that sweet. It sounds like you had quite the romantic morning." Alistair snorted and I shifted in my seat, trying to keep a neutral smile on my face. Having Wynne actually say something nice about my actions when it was an utter fabrication made me uncomfortable.

Although not as uncomfortable as her reaction to finding out what we had _really_ been doing would have made me.

"So, where now," Alistair broke in quickly.

I sighed, pushing my hair back. "I guess we go back west." The idea wasn't appealing, and it meant the dalish were put off yet _again_, but with Eamon as sick as he was, getting to Haven seemed important. Even beyond that, who knows what kind of trouble Brother Genitivi had gotten into, given what we found at his house. "Haven," I said.

"Y'know," Oghren spoke up, setting his ale down, "while we're out there, we should check out that, what's it called, with the golem. Town." He had just stopped calling Denerim a Thaig, so I suppose it was understandable he couldn't remember the word for town. I wasn't much better, after all- I'd long since forgotten the _name_ of the town.

"Honnleath," Alistair supplied. He pulled out a map, unrolling it. "I think it may actually be on our way there, if we head south and then west."

"Do you think it's safe to head south yet? I mean, it's still pretty cold."

"Sure," he said with a shrug. "We're halfway through Drakonis. It'll only get warmer from here on out."

"Warm_er_," Zevran said with a snort, "but not _warm_."

"Welcome to Ferelden," Alistair said drily. "You should have packed a cloak."

"If I owned one, I would have," Zevran replied. "Alas, such things are unnecessary in Antiva and I was never in the habit of spending what little coin I had on clothing I had no use for."

"You're telling me you couldn't afford a _cloak_," Alistair said, mouth quirking upward.

Zevran tensed slightly, although I don't think anyone noticed but me. "Tell me, Alistair," he said, "in your experience, do slaves often have a lot of pocket change?"

"Right," Alistair said, looking uncomfortable. "Forget I asked."

"Gladly."

I could only roll my eyes.

We left Denerim after breakfast, heading southwest. The first night on the road Zevran had wrapped his arms around me in our tent, sighing with contentment. "I have to admit," he whispered, breath sending a chill down my sweat-covered neck, "I much prefer having your undivided attention."

I suspected he was only trying to make sure I wasn't uncomfortable after how I reacted to our Denerim adventures. It was appreciated, though. I fell asleep still wrapped around him, and woke far less uneasy than I had the previous morning.

It became colder as we went on, despite what Alistair had promised. He kept saying it would have seemed warmer every day, if only we weren't steadily moving into a more frigid climate. That really didn't make it any better when we had to start staying in inns once more. I eyed our thinning purse warily. We had picked up a bit of cash since leaving Denerim, mostly due to bandits attacking us who we then looted, but we were also spending money at a horrifying pace. Food was still a great expense, although Zevran and Leliana had been hunting more and more lately. Alistair and Oghren even tried a few times, although deer tended to run when a screaming dwarf carrying a battleaxe careened towards them. I didn't have the heart to tell him the cow he had "caught" was actually someone's livestock, left behind in a fence when they fled the darkspawn. The steaks were a welcome change of pace from dry rations, after all.

The hinterlands were more wooded than farm, I found. I couldn't remember noticing that when I left the tower with Duncan, but then, I don't think I noticed much of _anything_ then. The trees here were different than the trees up north. They had pointy needles instead of flat leaves, and were still green even though it wasn't quite spring.

"I like this smell," I said as we hiked along an almost-hidden path. Alistair thought it might have been something the rebels used, when they couldn't use the regular roads. I didn't know if he was right, but it seemed clear no one used it anymore.

"Much better than dog," Zevran agreed. Dane barked at him. "Oh, I mean _other_ dogs, not you," he said, hands up in surrender. "You smell perfectly fine." This was followed by a comment in Antivan. Leliana laughed.

"Care to share with the rest of the class?" I asked.

"What?" he looked confused.

"Sorry," I replied. "Must be a mage joke. That was what the enchanters would say whenever they caught someone whispering or passing notes during lessons."

He looked thoughtful. "Your enchanters were far kinder than my Crow masters."

"Of that I have absolutely no doubt," I said. "Although I'm sure the Crows and Templars could make for an interesting comparison."

He just laughed at that.

"Well?" I repeated. "You said something funny."

Leliana replied, this time in Orlesian.

"I don't speak that, either," I said. She sighed.

"I am not accustomed to hiding my words from a _dog_," Zevran said. "Perhaps if you insist on owning a dog that can understand us you should take steps to learn a foreign language?"

Making a face at him, I couldn't help but feel annoyed. "First, I can speak, read, and write in both ancient and modern Arcanum, which isn't exactly _easy._" No one replied and I sighed. "Besides, I am learning a new language," I said.

"Oh?" Zevran said, sounding curious.

"You'll _love_ this," Alistair spoke up. "Only she would do this. I swear, I was doubled over when I found out."

Oghren hit Alistair on the back, sending him stumbling. "I'll make you double over, Pike Twirler." Alistair made a face at him, feigning insult. "And I don't think teaching the Warden half a dozen words from Orzammar counts as 'learning a foreign language.'" He waved his hands in the air, speaking in a snooty accent.

"It's a start!" I protested.

Zevran chuckled. "Maggie, why would you want to learn the Dwarves' language?"

"Just the one," Oghren said. "Usedta be more, back when we had the thaigs. Only Orzammar is left."

"Wait," Alistair said, "Every thaig had its own language?"

"More or less," Oghren replied.

"So… how did you talk to someone from another thaig?"

"Had a trade language, just fer that," Oghren said, smirking. He had already told me what I was certain would come next and, which I wasn't sure it was true, I was sure Oghren believed it to be true.

Alistair chuckled. "Can't even imagine what that sounded like," he mused. "All those different languages…"

"You already know what it sounds like, you nug humper!" Oghren said, looking insulted. "You're speaking it now!"

"What?" Alistair looked incredulous. "You're telling me the _Dwarves_ created the _King's Tongue!"_

Oghren looked pleased. "Ask yourself this, boy," he said. "Back when you started speaking it… who was your king?"

Alistair rolled his eyes. "There _wasn't_ a king," he replied. "The language dates back to the time before Calenhad and…" he paused. "And they called it the King's Tongue even then. When we had no king."

"But we did," Oghren said, looking smug.

Alistair glanced over at me. "This true?"

I could only shrug. "No idea. I look like some kind of language scholar? I just wish the rest of you would learn Arcanum and _then_ tell me I'm stupid for not speaking Orlesian or Antivan. Do you have _any idea _how many irregular words there are? I can't believe anyone in Tevinter gets a thing done, they must spend the first twenty years of their life just remembering all the strange ways to make things plural, and the sixty different variants of the verb _to be_. Sixty! Can you even imagine? It took me three weeks to learn them all."

"The Chantry frowns on learning Arcanum," Leliana mused.

"Yes, well, tell that to the books in the Circle of Magi's library. Half of them are written in it. Now what did Zevran say?"

Leliana sighed. "He was making an observation on the smell of your dog," she said. "What else would it have been?"

"Fine," I said, annoyed at missing the joke. I peered ahead, trying to see through fog. "Are we close?" I asked Alistair, changing the subject.

He nodded. We had decided to follow Oghren's advice, or rather I had decided and, as per usual, everyone just followed along with me. It seemed fitting, in a way. We were picking up a creature out of legend before our trip north to find an object out of legend.

"I think that's it," Alistair said perhaps an hour later, as we approached a massive wooden town gate, hanging open.

We both stopped at the same time, everyone else stumbling into us. "Wait," I whispered.

"Darkspawn?" Wynne asked.

"Of course it is," Zevran replied blithely with a dismissive wave of his hand. "How could they allow the good Wardens to go anywhere without sending a welcoming party?"

"It would be rather rude of them," Alistair agreed, hoisting his shield. "Well, time to dance."

Ice, fire, ice, lightning, duck, spin, scream; we ran through the deserted town killing everything in our path. I spotted a giant stone statue out of the corner of my eye, roughly carved, and wondered vaguely if that was our golem. No time to check, though, not while darkspawn seemed to hide around every corner, jumping down from every rooftop and bursting up through the ground at our feet.

Finally done, we returned to the statue. "You think that's it?" I mused.

"Did you see any other golems around here?" Alistair replied.

"Point taken." Fishing out the control rod, I held it up, repeating the phrase we had learned from the merchant.

I have no idea why I was even remotely shocked when nothing at all happened.

* * *

So the language thing? That was actually something DG posted to the forums. I found it very interesting, although who knows if it will ever come into play.


	41. You looted him a present How romantic!

"Kitty Kiiiitttttyyyy Kkkkiiiiiiittttttttyyyyy"

"Alistair, I swear to the Maker I will set you on fire," I snapped.

"Aw, come on," he laughed, waving his fork at me. "You're telling me you don't think that whole thing was funny?" It hadn't been an easy day. We found the survivors, and any excitement I might have felt over meeting the great mage Wilhelm's son and seeing his home was soon shattered. Wilhelm, it seems had moved on since his time fighting at Maric's side… moved on to _demonology_.

Of course, no one keeps bound demons in their own home. That would be simply insane. So many things could go wrong. They could escape. They could possess someone. They could linger for years after your death since no one else had the skill to return them to the Fade. They could nearly enthrall your young granddaughter when she stumbles into your laboratory.

It seems Wilhelm hadn't been given the 'why one does not keep demons around the house' lecture in his years at the Circle.

We were able to save his granddaughter, and in gratitude Wilhelm's son, who seemed disturbingly familiar for reasons I couldn't quite pinpoint, gave us the proper word for the golem control rod. Despite this, I didn't have high hopes for the girl's future.

"No," Wynne and I snapped in unison. It seems I wasn't the only one feeling pessimistic.

"Ow," he said, glancing from me to the older mage. "Both of you? Since when does _that _happen." He shook his head. "I'm sure I'm missing something. I mean, from where I stood we saved the day. And the demon was pretending to be a _cat_. Funny!"

"For that child to come so close to possession," Wynne said quietly, "and at this young an age… I hate to think what her future holds."

"Insanity?" I guessed. "Or another demon encounter that won't end with her dad giving her a hug. Circle ever gets her she'll get the brand since she's already proven herself to be highly susceptible to temptation." Wynne made a face at me but didn't argue.

"That… doesn't sound like a very nice future," Alistair said. "She was a kid, I mean—"

"Alistair, how old were _you_ when you realized cats couldn't talk? Since I can't remember ever actually thinking they _could. _I think if one of the mousers in the tower had come over and said hello I would have jumped out of my skin, and froze half the room solid in the process. She had to be nearly ten and accepted the demon without even questioning the existence of _a talking cat_?"

He sighed. "And here I thought today was a good day."

I couldn't help but offer a mirthless laugh. "By our standards it was."

"I would hope," came a booming voice from across camp, "that It would consider this a good day. You did find me."

"And how could I forget," I shouted back at the golem that had been lurking on the periphery of our camp since we arrived. "Half the world thinks of me as an _it_, but only you've had the nerve to say it to my face."

Although I wasn't sure, it sounded like the golem muttered "hag" under his breath.

"Fantastic," I sighed. It figured. After killing the darkspawn, killing the demon, saving the helpless villagers… we managed to find the one sarcastic golem in Thedas. The aptly named Shale was sarcastic and, to my great joy, full of dislike for mages.

"I'm going to bed," I finally said. "Wake me when it's my turn for watch."

Zevran followed me into the tent. "North again, I assume," he said, sitting cross-legged on our blankets.

"North again," I agreed. "Don't get too excited, though." He looked at me, waiting for an explanation. "Alistair said this place was pretty high in the mountains. Might be colder there than here."

He sighed. "You know, in Antiva I slept in the nude."

"Really?" I asked. "You mean intentionally?" I tried to imagine that. I found that I couldn't. Every time I had, it was only because I fell asleep before I could pull on my nightdress.

"Yes, it was intentionally," he laughed. "I could even leave the window open to catch the evening breeze."

"Well," I said, "up until recently, I shared a room with about sixty other girls."

"Oh?" Zevran smirked.

"No naked sleeping there."

"Aw. How easily you crush my dreams." He sighed, changing from his armor into nightclothes. "If I slept nude here I fear for what might happen. Some areas do not need frostbite." Stretching out, Zevran sighed. "Well, more frostbite than I already experience by regularly making love to a woman with an affinity for ice spells. That is more than enough exposure to ice for this elf."

"Hey," I said. "I never froze you… there."

"And every time those icy hands find their way into my hair I thank the Maker for that," he said, chuckling as we curled up under the blankets.

I woke out of breath, heart pounding in terror. As the darkspawn from my nightmares receded I could feel a warm hand on my forehead, brushing my hair back. Zevran was whispering something in Antivan.

"Shhh, all is well," he said quietly as I started to wake up.

"Darkspawn," was all I could mutter.

"They are not here," he said. "Only us."

Reality began to sharpen around me. "Maker," I mumbled, rolling over to face him. "That was a bad one."

His arms wrapped around me, Zevran sighed. "It was starting to seem you had managed to escape your nightmares."

"I'm sorry," I replied.

He propped himself up on one elbow, neck at an angle. "Why do you apologize?"

"For waking you," I said. "It can't be easy sleeping next to me."

"On the contrary," he said, "it is very easy sleeping next to you." I smiled at him and he grinned back. "You may be the only thing keeping me from freezing to death in this beastly climate. It is waking next to you that is difficult… mostly since it involves someone screaming in my ear and kicking me." Zevran sat up, stretching. "Ah, the things I do for a pretty face."

I sighed. "Still, I feel bad."

He shook his head. "You spent far too long under control of the Chantry. Only they are so insistent that we all apologize for that which is outside our control."

I found that I couldn't really argue.

"Tell me something," I whispered as we sat on watch that night. It was warm, almost blissfully warm, as we moved north. We were by the fire, on a blanket, only light cloaks over our shoulders.

"The Queen of Antiva has surprisingly large hands," Zevran said.

"Huh?"

He chuckled. "You said to tell you something. You did not specify _what_."

"Come on, be serious," I said. He waited for me to go on, no longer laughing. "These ashes… do you think we'll actually find them?"

Zevran was silent for a long time, pondering that. "Perhaps," he said eventually. "Andraste… well, she was real. It is historical record. As to anything else," he shrugged. "I am religious, but in Antiva I don't think it means quite what it does here. We go to Chantry. We sing the songs and chant with the priests. We celebrate holidays. Actual belief, though… that is not so simple."

"You don't believe in the Maker?"

"No, I do," he said. "As to if he took a human as his _bride_, and that her very ashes could save a man from the grave… well, that belief does not come so easily." We sat in silence. Eventually Zevran spoke again. "If Andraste was really Bride of the Maker… well, I do not think she would be a very happy one right now." I looked over at him with curiosity. "I have seen priests step over children starving in the gutters. They wear cloth-of-gold while their flock wears rags." He sneered. "I myself have stood on a slave block while they passed, utterly indifferent. _Indifferent_." I found myself too horrified by that to reply. "Of course," Zevran went on after a moment, "having since learned a good deal more about their treatment of mages, I am more understanding."

"Understanding?" I asked.

"Indeed," he replies. "The Chantry keeps so many slaves themselves, I cannot be shocked the priests did nothing to save the son of an elven whore."

I could only sigh, resting my head on his shoulder. As bad as I thought my life had been… as bad as it actually was, I couldn't imagine it compared to the tortures he had lived through.

"Enough, though," he finally said. "Let us talk of happier things."

"Such as?" I asked.

"Such as… you will not believe me when I tell you what I caught Alistair doing this morning."

My eyes widened. "Oh, this I have to hear. What was it?" I leaned closer. "It wasn't anything dirt-nah, this is _Alistair. _Who am I kidding?"

Zevran laughed. "I found him by the river. With his shield propped up. Singing and fixing his hair. He was checking his reflection in his shield and…" he started laughing again, unable to finish.

"And?" I said.

"And I know where some of those missing elfroot balms have gone," he said. "I always wondered how his hair stood up so straight… now I know."

"You're kidding me," I said.

"Not at all."

"We need that stuff! For injuries!"

"And our friend Alistair apparently needs it for his hair."

I shook my head and made a mental note to hide the rest away so he couldn't get to it.

"Maggie," Alistair asked the next day as we hiked up a mountain, "have you seen that elfroot balm?"

"The kind for burns?" I asked, playing dumb. "I gave it to Wynne, to keep safe with the rest of our medical supplies."

"You… why?"

"Half of it was gone! And we get burned a lot. We can't keep losing that sort of thing, it's important."

He looked ready to argue. I think the look on my face convinced him otherwise.

After a few days of increasingly uncomfortable camping on the mountainside we started to see torches lining the road. "Must be getting close," I mused.

"Looks like there's a guard," Alistair agreed.

A very unfriendly guard, as it turns out. After some tense conversation, we were given permission to purchase supplies in the village shop, and get out.

"Did you hear him?" Leliana asked as we walked into the town, ostensibly to look for this shop. "He mentioned a Revered Father. I've never heard of such a thing."

"Neither have I," I said. "Well, they have them in Tevinter. But something tells me we haven't stumbled on a pocket of Tevinter Chantry followers in the Ferelden mountains."

"They are hiding something," Morrigan said.

"I love these small towns," Zevran mused. "Always something nasty going on behind closed doors."

Wynne signed. "You think that about all doors, no matter where they are."

"If I keep hoping, perhaps some day it will come true!"

I walked ahead, not wanting to involve myself in their bickering. A small house stood not far from us, door hanging open.

Impulsively, I ducked my head inside. "Hello?" I called, hoping someone who wasn't the guard might know where we could find Brother Genitivi. Or not be such a stone-faced liar about it. "No one's home," I said, turning around.

"What," Wynne said, stepping behind me, "is _that?_"

"Maker's breath!" I said, glancing where she had pointed.

Walking in, I looked at the bloodstained alter hoping to think of a reasonable explanation. I tried to ignore the pull in my veins. It felt like I was standing next to a pool of lyrium. I could almost feel the magic potential crackling around me, and fought to suppress any reaction.

"Food preparation, maybe?" Alistair asked. We all turned to look at him. "Yeah… I didn't think so, either."

"This is not the 'something nasty' I had been hoping for," Zevran said. "I recall, years ago, there were Crows who made blood sacrifices. They claimed it gave them uncanny abilities."

"Well, blood magic will do that," I said. "Ugh, stop!" I said, looking at Dane who had been licking the blood. "Gross." He looked abashed, and stepped away. "So, was someone killed here?" I asked the dog impulsively. His growl was a surprisingly clear answer.

"I can not believe I am about to say this," Morrigan began, "but I find I am in agreement with your _dog_. That is human blood."

"I agree," I admitted.

"I also know," she went on, "that no one can lose so much blood and _live_."

"Well fantastic," I sighed.

"Come on," Alistair urged us. "Let's get out of here before whoever made that puddle gets home to find us."

We managed to slip out without bumping into anyone, something I was very relieved about. I didn't even try to steal anything.

"That must be the shop," I said, pointing to a larger building.

We walked in and I sighed.

"I know that smell," Alistair said. "This again?"

"I guess so," I agreed.

Zevran signed. "Do none of these fools know how to dispose of a body? Really, it is quite simple! Burn it, bury it, toss it in a river... anything but stick it in another room and hope the smell goes away!"

We made awkward small talk with the shopkeeper, who felt the need to point out that none of us were from Haven. I would imagine if we were we would have known. "Go, boy," I finally whispered, nudging Dane along. He didn't need any more encouragement to run into the back room. "Blast," I said theatrically. "Come back here, Dane!" Chasing after him, I ignored the shopkeeper's protests. Unsurprisingly, there was a body in the back room.

Not long after I returned to the others, there was a body in the front room as well.

"This one's a Redcliffe knight," I said. Alistair looked sad. "We must be getting close to something."

"But what?" Leliana asked.

"No idea," I admitted. "Probably something pretty good, though, with the way they're going nuts trying to keep people away." I was already sifting through everything I could, shoving valuables into my pack. "Maker above," I gasped as I poked around behind the counter. "Look at all this gold!"

That alone would have been enough to put a spring in my step for the rest of the day. Moments later, though, I found something even better. "What's that?" Alistair asked, looking over my shoulder. "Boots?"

"Yep," I said, turning them over. The maker's mark on the bottom was in an unfamiliar language. I could only make out one word, '_Rialto.'_

"Why are you so happy to find men's boots?" Alistair asked. He reached out to touch them and gasped. "All right, now I wish my feet were smaller," he admitted. "That is the softest leather I have ever felt."

"They're pretty nice," I agreed.

"They're too big for you," he said. "I've seen your feet."

I looked at him and laughed. My feet were, in fact, the first part of me Alistair had ever seen. "They're not for me," I said, glancing over my shoulder.

"Aw," he said, chuckling. "You looted him a present. How romantic!"

"Quiet you," I said, laughing despite myself as I hid the boots at the bottom of my pack before Zevran could notice them.

Pockets bulging, we left the shop, in search of the mysterious 'Revered Father.'


End file.
